


is anybody waiting (at home for you?)

by inkk



Series: gang world au [1]
Category: All Time Low, Asking Alexandria, Bandom, Bring Me The Horizon, Escape the Fate, Falling in Reverse, Of Mice & Men (Band), Pierce the Veil, Sleeping With Sirens, We Are Harlot (Band), You Me At Six
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gang World, Anxiety, Drug Dealing, Drug lords, Fluff, Gangs, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Drug Addiction, Kidnapping, M/M, Night Terrors, Nightmares, Swearing, Violence, cooking??????
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-30
Updated: 2016-02-10
Packaged: 2018-04-17 23:16:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 43,363
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4684913
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inkk/pseuds/inkk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Vic is a drug lord, and Kellin is the seventeen-year old kid he regrets kidnapping.<br/>Simple as that... right?<br/>But with Vic's gang under attack by the infamously crazy Danny Worsnop, tension quickly rising among the members of the gang and Kellin caught in the crossfire, who will have what it takes to make it out alive?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. lonely

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kellin wanders into a drug den, Mike is intimidating and Jaime is lame as hell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> for the prompt 'you’re a drug lord and I think I’ve just walked into your drug den’.
> 
> (work title comes from the song 'Hopeless' by Train)
> 
> *UPDATE: this was originally a one-shot in a series, but since I originally posted it I've decided to remove it from the series and keep writing.
> 
> Enjoy, and hope you'll stick around for the ride! :)

+

"Oh, fuck," Kellin whispers, eyes wide as he takes in his surroundings. "Oh, fuck, fuck, _fuck_ \---"

Even in the dark, he can see that the room is completely and utterly destroyed - the walls are covered layer after layer of graffiti, the ground littered with garbage, cigarette butts, bottles, and a few dirty mattresses. Muffled voices can be heard drifting over from the next room, talking in undertones.

Someone in the shadows coughs, making Kellin flinch and jump back. His foot lands on top a filthy glass pipe with a sudden crunch. 

The voices stop.

"H-hello?" he calls out against his better judgement, pulling the sleeves of his cardigan down over his hands and hating the way his voice trembles.

 _Fuck._ He'd honestly just been on his way to see friend Jack, and now he's gone and wandered into a fucking _drug den_ (which apparently _do_ actually exist outside of movies). He's going to be so unbelievably fucked if his mom finds out.

"Who's there?" a gruff male voice asks in reply.

Kellin jumps again, heart pounding in his throat.

"I said, who's there?" the voice repeats angrily, followed by the scrape of a chair and approaching footsteps.

Kellin panics and frantically attempts to flatten himself against one of the disgustingly dirty walls, his pulse hammering as a tall, lean figure enters the room.

"Get out here where I can see you!" he bellows, raising his right arm and _holy shit, he has a fucking gun_.

Kellin lets out a terrified squeak despite himself, hands automatically raising above his head as the man whirls on him.

"Who are you?" he demands, "Who sent you? Who knows you're here?"

"I don't--" Kellin manages to choke out, "Fuck, I didn't--"

"Mike? What's going on?" a wary voice asks, accompanied by the scraping of another chair. Another man appears in the open doorway, this one in a hoodie. "Who's this?"

"Please, don't hurt me," Kellin begs, "I didn't-- I don't--"

The man with the gun - Mike - rolls his eyes. "Shut the fuck up," he hisses. "Just stay put." Raising his voice, he yells, "Everyone else, get the fuck out! Now!"

A flurry of movement erupts in the shadows, and about twenty people Kellin hadn't even realized we're in the room stagger for the exit. 

Once the room clears out, the man with the gun makes a faint gesture and the man in the hoodie steps forward. Kellin flinches, but stays put and allows his wrists to be tugged behind his back and secured with what feels like a zip tie.

"I don't want to die here," he mumbles dazedly. He feels like he's going to throw up. "I can't die here, my dad is going to kill me."

"It's okay, you're probably not going to die," the man in the hoodie chuckles, gently nudging him forward and prompting Kellin to move with a surprisingly gentle hand between his shoulder blades. Mike gestures impatiently with the gun to the doorway beside the one they came out of, then follows Kellin and the other man in. He manages to catch a brief glimpse of what looks like two men in the other room before he's pushed inside.

"Kneel," Mike orders, and Kellin does. "Good. Now stay still and don't talk. If you try and make a move, Tony'll blow your fucking brains out before you can say 'help'."

With one last, pointed look, Mike passes the gun over to the man in the hoodie - Tony - and stalks out again.

For the first time, Kellin gets a good look at the his captor. He's about average height, he supposes, with stretched ears and tattoos all the way up to his neck. Despite the body modifications, though, his dark eyes are kindly in appearance.

"Um. You can talk, if you like," Tony says after a moment, tucking the gun into his waistband and awkwardly shuffling in place. "No screaming, though. Um. I like your sweater, by the way."

Kellin offers a brittle smile and feels tears welling up in his eyes. "I was just going to meet a friend," he says after a moment, "I was just going to meet a friend and I took a wrong turn and now people have guns and I'm going to die in a fucking crack den--"

"Methamphetamine," Tony interrupts. "Sorry, uh. Continue."

"And now I'm going to die in a-- a... drug den, okay, and it's not like anyone will miss me but this is all happening so fast," Kellin babbles, "If I had taken the bus, or, or, asked Jack for a ride then I wouldn't even be here--"

"Hey, hey," Tony frowns, "Just breathe for a second, man. What's your name?"

"Kellin," he mumbles. "My name is Kellin."

"Yeah? Nice. My name's Tony, that's a lot more boring. Here's about when I would usually shake your hand, but." Tony laughs. "Anyways, you're probably not gonna die."

"Really?" Kellin sniffs, eyes round, and _god_. Some part of his brain must be dimly aware that he's acting like a fucking baby, but most of it is just busy hoping that he's going to get out of here alive. "You're... You're just going to let me go?"

Tony sighs. "Didn't say we'd let you go, just said you weren't gonna die."

Kellin's heart sinks.

"Fuck," Tony mumbles, scrubbing a hand over his face. "I'm sorry, Kellin, okay? But what you gotta understand is that there are a whole lot of people after us, and while we can't have a body count, we can't have witnesses, either." He pauses. "Fuck, man. I'm only 20, you know that? I can't even legally drink, for god's sakes, I can't go to fucking jail."

"I'm sorry," Kellin says quietly after a moment. "I didn't mean to mess anything up, I swear. I was just in the wrong place."

Tony sighs. "I believe you, dude. For now we're just going to have to wait and see what Vic wants us to do with you, though."

"Vic," Kellin echoes, rolling the name over his tongue, "Is that... Was he one of the guys next door?"

Tony nods. "Yeah, him and Jaime."

"So, you guys are pretty close, then," Kellin states after a moment of silence, looking down at his knees.

"They're my family," Tony says simply. "I'd do anything for them."

"Even shoot me?"

"Even shoot you."

"Who's shooting who?" a good-natured voice asks from the direction of the doorway. Kellin tenses and remains still, not even daring to look.

"Hopefully, no one," Tony says lowly. "What's the verdict?"

The man in the doorway sighs and says, "We're bringing him with."

Tony's eyebrows raise, and he motions with one hand for Kellin to stand up. "How long do you think it'll be until someone reports you missing?" he asks.

Kellin starts, surprised at being addressed. "Um. I don't know, maybe two or three days?" he guesses, "I've ran away before, so."

Tony nods. "Great," he says awkwardly. "Fuck, this is such a mess. I'm going to have a word with Mike. Himes, can you get Kellin to the van?"

"Sure," the guy agrees, stepping into Kellin's field of vision as Tony exits the room. He's a little bit shorter than Tony, with dark, spiky hair and a prominent nose. "Hi," he smiles. "Um. Kellin, was it?" 

When Kellin doesn't respond, he sighs and rubs his hands together in a way that would be probably funny if Kellin wasn't in the middle of getting kidnapped. "Right. Well. I'm Jaime, and we're gonna take you to our van now, okay?"

Kellin just stares at him.

"Yeah, I'm not intimidating, I know," Jaime says cheerfully. "Mike should really be the one in here doing this, but I guess he and Tony are too busy sucking face to actually get anything done." He makes a face. "Don't tell them I said that. Anyways. I have a gun, keep your hands inside the ride at all times, don't yell, blah blah blah. Got it?" 

Kellin nods stiffly, silently wondering how the hell Jaime managed to get into drug dealing.

"You could talk, you know," Jaime offers, stepping forward and spinning Kellin around before guiding him through the doorway and towards the exit. "Ugh, fucking mattresses. Ew."

Kellin squints against the bright sunlight when they finally step outside, inhaling a deep breath of clean air.

"I feel you, buddy," Jaime agrees with a contented sigh, "Try living in there for two days - everything reeks like piss, it's disgusting... Oops, watch your step!"

Kellin rolls his eyes, easily stepping over a tiny puddle less the size of his fist. _Jesus Christ, could this guy get any more lame?_

"Here's our van!" Jaime cheerfully announces, coming to a stop in front of a red minivan.

"You're joking," Kellin finally says. "This is a joke, right?"

Jaime shakes his head. "Nope, not joking. Also, we can't flip the seat up because we need the storage space, so you're gonna have to sit in the trunk for a little while, okay?"

"Yeah," Kellin says, perplexed at the genuinely apologetic expression Jaime shoot him, "Don't even worry about it, man."

"Phew, alright." Jaime's usual grin returns, and he lets go of Kellin to pop the trunk. "I'll untie your hands so you can climb in and then we'll get you a pair of real handcuffs after, sound good?"

"Why are you asking for my approval?" Kellin asks, confused. "I mean, aren't you supposed to be kidnapping me?"

"Valid point," Jaime shrugs. "Aren't you supposed to be putting up a fight?"

 

+

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i wrote this in fifteen minutes flat, so it's really messy and pointless. um. sorry.  
> thank you for reading, though, holy smokes!  
> kudos are absolutely amazing, and please feel free to drop me a comment! :)


	2. wild side

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kellin is sleepy, Vic takes care of business (and Tony and Mike are a power couple).

+

 

"Hey, Kellin. _Kellin_. Kellin? Wake up. You want anything from McDonalds?"

Stretching, Kellin blinks a few times before groggily sitting up and poking his head over the top of the seat. "Wha? Oh. 'M good," he yawns, rubbing his eyes as best as he can with the cuffs on his wrists. Tony is still asleep, propped up against the window and emitting the occasional snore while Mike leans up against him.

"You sure, dude?" Jaime asks from the passenger seat, "It's gonna be at least a two or three hours until we stop to eat again, and you get fucking _vicious_ when you're hungry."

Kellin sleepily snorts and shakes his head, then flops back down onto his pile of blankets amongst the large, cardboard boxes and their mysterious (and dubiously legal) contents.

It's strange, just how quickly he's managed to become accustomed to being held captive by a ragtag bunch of meth dealers.

 

\+ + +

 

"We're just outside of Emory now, and our last big stop is in West Valley in about forty-five minutes or so," Mike is saying, idly tracing his finger along the surface of a worn map. Kellin doesn't actually have a say in any of this, but he nods along with the rest of the guys anyways. "After that, we just have to drop through a couple places in Vegas. So it looks like from Salt Lake, we can pretty much just follow interstate 15 overnight all the way down until Barstow--"

"And then it's back home to San Diego in time for breakfast," Vic finishes triumphantly, high-fiving Jaime. "You ever been to California, Kellin?"

"Um," Kellin startles a bit. This is the first time Vic has ever really directly spoken to him. "No? I mean, no. I haven't."

"Seriously?" Vic's eyebrows shoot up in the rearview mirror, "North Dakota boy, you're telling me you've never taken a drive down to California?"

Kellin shakes his head. "I can't drive. My parents don't really do road trips, either, except up to Canada to visit relatives."

Tony whistles. "Damn. You're missing out, dude."

"Not for long," Vic amends. "You'll see. We'll show you around."

 

\+ + +

 

The atmosphere in the van seems to change as they approach West Valley, growing steadily more tense with every passing minute. Kellin tries to ignore it as best he can, instead taking to peering curiously out the back window as they drive through the city.

By the time the van finally pulls to a stop in a relatively suburban neighbourhood, the tension in the air is so strong it practically cackles. After a moment, Vic and Mike wordlessly exit the vehicle, slowly walking down the sidewalk and eventually disappearing around a corner.

"Where are they going?" Kellin asks quietly, leaning over the back seat. "Are they dealing drugs, or something?"

Tony's mouth is set into a hard line. "No," he answers with a sigh. "We try to keep Vic away from the actual product as much as possible, so that he can't technically be convicted of anything. This is more like a... a check-up, of sorts. We've been having a bit of trouble with our contacts down here lately, missing payments and so on, so Vic's going to drop in and see what's going on. See if we can keep doing business."

Kellin digests the information, allowing the van falls back into tense silence for a few moments. "So is Vic, like, your boss?" he asks tentatively.

"You could say that, yeah. He's pretty much at the head of the whole operation."

"And how, um. How big is this 'operation'?"

Tony shrugs. "It's pretty big back in San Diego. Not so much out here yet, though. We're trying to spread out more."

"Oh," Kellin says, quietly. "Do you think they're in danger?"

"Can you just stop asking questions for now, please?" Tony asks miserably, running a hand over his face and looking out the window.

Kellin silently lies back down.

A few minutes later, he hears agitated rustling. "Himes, shouldn't they be back by now?"

"It's fine," Jaime's voice says, tone reassuring, "Vic hasn't sent the signal, and we've still got almost twenty minutes left on the timer before we go in." Softer, he adds, "I'm sure he's fine, Tony."

In the back seat, Kellin curls himself up into a ball and waits. Twenty or so minutes pass, and Vic and Mike still haven't returned.

"Let's go," Jaime finally says, breaking the heavy, pervading silence before getting out of the van.

Kellin struggles to his knees. "Wait, you're leaving?" he asks as Tony steps out, "What about me?"

The trunk opens, and Jaime shoots him a smile as he opens one of the many mysterious boxes. "Just stay here. You'll be perfectly fine."

"But, what if--?" he trails off. With a shock, Kellin realizes Jaime's pulling out weapons. "Holy shit," he breathes, watching with wide eyes as he passes Tony two shiny, silver pistols. "What-- Are you--?"

"Precautionary measures," Tony explains curtly, tucking one into the back of his waistband and one in the front. "We'll do what we have to."

"Holy shit," Kellin repeats. "Oh my god, this isn't actually happening."

"Hey," Jaime frowns, reaching forward to place a steady hand on his shoulder. " _Breathe_ , Kellin. This is perfectly normal for us. Everything's fine. Just sit tight here, and we'll be back before you know it."

And with that, he swings the trunk closed.

 

\+ + +

 

At first, Kellin arranges his blankets around him and waits in silence.

After thirty minutes pass of staring blankly at a cardboard box and no one coming back to the van, he sits back up and passes the time by braiding his hair.

By the time it reaches the one-hour mark, Kellin starts to get anxious. He tries to distract himself by humming and trying to pick the lock on his handcuffs using a pen he found underneath Mike's seat, but with no prior knowledge of lock-picking, his attempt mainly involves jamming the ink cartridge in the key hole and moving it around. 

Surprisingly, though, after a good fifteen minutes of haphazard pen-wiggling and a cramp in both wrists, the handcuffs fall open with a faint click.

"Holy shit," Kellin says aloud. He didn't think it would actually _work_.

By now, the sky outside is growing steadily darker as the minutes tick by. A single street light flickers to life on the opposite side of the road. Kellin kind of has to pee.

He slumps back down against the side of the van with a long sigh and halfheartedly waves his hands around (just because he can). He's tired, but there's no way he's going to be able to sleep until he knows the guys are safe.

A multitude of scenarios flash through his mind all at once; they could be talking with their 'contact', or being held hostage, or...

 _No. They can't be,_ Kellin shakes himself, unwilling to even entertain the possibility.

He braids his hair again, instead. It's a lot easier without the cuffs.

 

\+ + +

 

_"Kellin," his mother is saying, her voice just on the edge of yelling, "Kellin, we're very disappointed. You know your father and I expect more of you."_

_He tries to dodge out of the way when he sees her arm draw back, but his limbs remain heavy and unresponding as her palm connects with his cheek in a powerful smack that sends him stumbling backwards._

_His father is there too, now, his face a twisted mask of fury as he steps forward. "Wake up!" he roars, voice muffled as though he's talking through a blanket, "Kellin, we're back!"_

Kellin jolts awake, scrambling to sit upright. "Wh-wha--?" he gasps, frantically looking around the empty van.

Something knocks on the window behind him and he jumps, whirling around to see Vic looking at him through the glass with a mischievous grin.

Tony pulls open the door of the van and he and Mike clamber in, muttering hello - Vic and Jaime climb into the front seats, the latter turning around to wave at Kellin. "Miss me?" he asks, sticking out his tongue.

"Yeah, actually," Kellin replies honestly as the van makes a fast U-turn and begins to drive away. "What took you guys so long?" he asks, "What happened in there?"

No one answers for a few moments, and then he sees Tony shrug. "It's taken care of," he says quietly.

Kellin doesn't fully miss the way he's absentmindedly picking blood out from under his fingernails.

Jaime coughs, breaking the tension. "Well, our road trip schedule is all fucked up now, that's for sure," he continues cheerfully. "I, for one, vote on renting a motel room and driving to Vegas tomorrow morning."

In the driver's seat, Vic hums in agreement. "Yeah, let's just drive down to Lindon or Provo and find somewhere to stay," he sighs, stopping at an intersection and pulling a right turn. "I'm really not in the mood for any more business-related ventures tonight."

 

\+ + +

 

"C'mon, Kells, time to go," someone urges, patting Kellin on the shoulder and effectively pulling him out of his almost-sleep. "You can sleep in the motel room all you want, dude."

Kellin yawns and sits up with a groan, rubbing his eyes and blinking up at Vic. "I'm tired," he mumbles.

Vic laughs. "Yeah, me too. C'mon, though, just follow me."

Kellin reluctantly gets to his hands and knees, uncoordinatedly stumbling over the back seat and out the left side door. His feet hit the parking lot pavement with a sleepy, resigned thump, and then Vic is reaching out for his wrist and guiding him to a door marked _'103'._

Inside, Jaime is lying spread-eagled on top of one of the two queen-size beds. The faint sound of running water is coming from behind a closed door that Kellin assumes is a bathroom, golden light spilling through the cracks.

"I generously decided to let the other two have some quality shower time," Jaime explains, wiggling his eyebrows.

"And there goes my shower for tonight," Vic mock-sighs, gently nudging Kellin towards the unoccupied bed. "You can have this one," he nods, "Jaime and I will take the floor."

"Speak for yourself," Jaime snorts, sitting up and stretching. "I totally dibs the couch."

"Oh," Kellin says, cheeks flushing pink. "No, it's fine, you can totally have the bed. Or we could, um. Share?"

"Do you mind?" Vic asks, cocking his head slightly.

"No, not at all," Kellin rushes to get out. "It's perfectly fine. It's fine."

Vic shoots him a weird look. "If you say so," he replies after a brief pause. "Hey, Himes, can I talk to you outside for a moment?"

As soon as the door shuts behind the two, Kellin quickly slips off his pants and climbs into bed. In an instant, he goes from sleepy to wide awake. _What had he been thinking, offering to share a bed with a fucking drug lord? Was he out of his mind?_

A few moments later the water stops running and the bathroom door opens, accompanied by the sounds of footsteps and hushed voices as Tony and Mike climb into bed.

"Shut up, I don't want to wake him up," Tony says _sotto voce_ , followed by the rustling of blankets.

There's a pause, and then Mike whispers, "I can't believe we fucking kidnapped someone."

"I can't believe it either," Tony replies quietly. "I can't believe Vic would--" He sighs. "Especially after what happened to you guys, you know? I mean, I just feel so fucking _guilty--_ "

"Hey, shhh," Mike murmurs. "Shhh, it's okay. Just go to sleep."

Another pause, this time interrupted by the soft, wet sounds of kissing - "I love you," Tony whispers. "I really fucking love you, Mikes, you know that?"

A soft chuckle. "Good. I really fucking love you too."

"G'night."

"'Night."

It's a long time until he manages to fall asleep that night.

 

+

 

Kellin wakes to morning sunlight filtering through the blinds and bathing the motel room in swaths of fulvous gold, the bed sheets tangled around his waist and the curve of his back pressed up against a heavy, solid warmth. He lies peacefully still for a few moments, staring blankly up at a crack in the ceiling before the past days' events come crashing back to him. 

Drawing in a shallow breath, he props himself up on his elbows and takes in the scene around him; Tony and Mike spooned together in the next bed over, the mussed blankets on the couch where Jaime must have slept and Vic, pressed up against Kellin in all his shirtless drug-lord glory. It's surreal.

As if on cue, Vic snuffles lightly and turns over, one hand catching on the fabric of Kellin's shirt. His eyes crack open. "Oh," he says after a moment, voice rough from sleep, "You're awake. Um. Good morning."

"Morning," Kellin mumbles uncertainly, feeling a blush rising to his cheeks. He's suddenly and incredibly aware of his lack of pants.

"Wait a second," Vic frowns, "Where did your handcuffs go?"

Kellin's heart stops. "O-oh," he eventually stutters out. "Well, um. There was a pen under the seat?" he says, nervously fidgeting with the blankets and avoiding Vic's eyes, "You guys didn't come back for a few hours, and I. I was just bored, I swear--"

He cuts himself off, however, when Vic starts chuckling. "Wh-what's--?"

"It's fine, Kells," he laughs out. "I'm not mad."

A groan sounds from the adjacent bed, and Mike asks, "Wha's up? Wha's happenin'?"

"This idiot," he grins, "picked the lock on his handcuffs last night while we were paying Dominiquez a visit and didn't escape."

Mike sits up. "What?" he exclaims in disbelief, suddenly alert. "What the fuck, why not?"

"It didn't really even occur to me," Kellin truthfully admits with a shrug. "I was just really bored and really worried about you guys."

Vic sighs and rubs his forehead. "Holy shit, dude. You're really dumb."

"And you can go ahead and tell me that when your next prisoner runs away," Kellin rolls his eyes. He freezes, suddenly aware that he might've overstepped his bounds, but Vic just laughs.

"Alright, you got me there," he agrees, moving to a sitting position that gives Kellin a great view of his tan, muscled back. "Do you want to shower first, or shall I?"

Kellin blinks. "Wait, you're not going to cuff me again?"

Vic shrugs and stands up. "Not really a point now," he yawns, stretching and running a hand through his hair. "I think you've already made your choice."

Dumbstruck, Kellin watches him shuffle into the bathroom, Vic's words echoing in his ears.

Mike whistles. "Damn."

 

+


	3. domicile

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kellin gets a tour of "The House", everyone eats grilled cheese and a high-stakes MarioKart battle ensues.

+

The first thing that comes to mind when Kellin lays eyes on the house is ' _small_ '.

It's titchy, really - a thin two-story house with a wraparound deck in the middle of an otherwise empty field, complete with flower beds out front and a picturesque white picket fence.

"Wow," Kellin says, because it feels awkward not to say anything. "It's, um. It's really sweet."

"Home sweet home," Vic grins, stepping out of the van to stretch.

Mike snorts and turns to face him. "It's tiny, though, right? That's what you're thinking?"

"Uh... yeah," Kellin admits, then hastily adds, "But it has a really quaint vibe!"

Jaime laughs as he climbs out and comes around the van to pop the trunk. "Wait until you see the basement," he advises. "We own all the land for a few acres in each direction, and we got the house custom built."

"Cool," Kellin says, nodding as if he understands. "That's, um. Neat."

Jaime's grin simply widens. "You'll see. Now get out here and help us load all these boxes inside."

 

\+ + +

 

"Last one," Tony huffs, setting yet another cardboard box down beside the rest. He closes the front door behind him.

Inside, the house is modestly decorated; the floor is made of dark wood and walls are painted in a light, airy cream colour, a few paintings hanging up here and there. Kellin is... surprised, to say the least.

It must show on his face, because Mike shoots him another mischievous grin. "Vic," he calls, "You want us to give him the tour, or what?"

"Yeah," Vic shouts back, emerging at the top of the narrow staircase a few seconds later and half-sliding down the banister. "I'll show him around, you guys continue moving the rest of the stuff into the office. And Mike, go park the van in the garage."

Jaime groans, but picks up a box nonetheless. "Yes, _boss_ ," he mutters.

Vic lightly smacks his shoulder, then beckons for Kellin to follow him up the stairs. "This is a bathroom," he says, pointing to the first door from the landing. "That one's a master bedroom, and the one beyond that is a guest room."

"O-okay," Kellin nods. "Where am I...?"

"We'll get to that in a sec," Vic winks. Literally _winks. Fuck._

Slightly dumbfounded, Kellin follows him back downstairs where he points out the kitchen, the office, another bathroom and a second guest room - all clearly unoccupied.

"Um... Then--... Where do you guys sleep?" he finally asks, puzzled. Vic simply grins and moves off down the hall to what looks like a linen closet, leaving Kellin to trail confusedly behind. "Where are we--?"

"C'mon, follow me," Vic instructs, pulling the door open and stepping inside.

Kellin laughs in disbelief. "Into a closet? No way! I've spent long enough in there."

"Hurry up and get your flat ass down here," Vic calls back. His voice sounds oddly echoey and far away.

Hesitantly stepping around the door, Kellin peers inside. "Holy shit," he finally gasps. "Oh my god, seriously?"

Vic's laugh is buoyed up to him from where he's standing at the bottom of a ladder, looking up with a pleased smirk. "Yeah, seriously! Come on down. Don't bother closing the trapdoor."

"Holy shit," Kellin mutters to himself, sitting down at the edge of the hole and anchoring his feet on the first ring before carefully climbing down. "I thought this kind of stuff was only  
supposed to exist in movies," he eventually says, stepping down and looking around in complete awe.

The 'basement' is cavernous compared to the rest of the house - easily the size of the ground floor of his parents' house back in North Dakota, with a fairly high ceiling and doors leading off of the main room. There's a couch and a TV in the left back corner, and what looks to be a kitchenette in the right.

"Holy shit," Kellin repeats, "Holy fucking _shit_."

Vic's grin widens. "You like it, then?"

"It's a _hidden basement!_ " Kellin cries, "Dude, this is so badass. You guys _live_ down here?"

"For the most part," Vic nods. "We use the upstairs for cooking and eating and stuff, but we have basically everything we need down here if necessary."

"Wow," Kellin remarks, "Just. Wow. How much did you have to pay to get this done?"

Vic shoots him a mysterious smile. "Free, actually. Some people owed us a favour."

Before Kellin can wrap his head around exactly what that means, Vic is pulling him towards the first door on the right. "This one is a bathroom," he explains, "It only has a shower, so if for some reason you want a bath, you'll have to use the one on the main floor. And this one," he says, pushing the next door open, "Is going to be your room."

Curiously, Kellin peers inside. It's a pretty standard bedroom, with white walls and a twin-size bed. "Awesome."

"It's pretty boring, but we can paint or decorate it however you want." Vic shrugs. "I mean, you might be here for a while, so..." he trails off, plunging them into an awkward silence.

"Uh," Kellin says after a moment. "So, um. Which ones are your guys' rooms?"

"The door directly across from yours is mine, the one to the left of it is Mike and Tony's, and Jaime's is right beside you," he answers, pointing at the far wall of the bedroom. "If you need anything, he's probably your best bet."

"Okay," Kellin nods. "And, um, what's that one? On the right of yours, I mean." He points across the basement to a sixth door; this one made from steel.

Vic's friendly demeanour drops. "You don't need to know," he replies ominously. "Don't ever go in there."

"O-oh," Kellin stammers. "Um, alright. Got it. No scary doors for me."

"Good," Vic says, suddenly cheerful again, "Let's go back upstairs and pester Tony to cook us something for lunch."

 

\+ + +

 

"You're going to need clothes," Jaime thoughtfully announces between bites of grilled cheese. "And, like, a toothbrush and stuff."

"And a shower," Mike grumbles, wiping his hands on a paper towel.

Slightly offended, Kellin looks down at himself, only to realize that he's been wearing the same black skinny jeans, Metallica t-shirt and cardigan for the past four days. "Oh," he eventually says, "Yeah, I guess I do." He tries not to think of them as his last remnants of home.

Beside him, Tony sighs and sets a sympathetic hand on his shoulder. "We'll go into town this afternoon," he offers, "Just make a list of what you want and in what size and we'll make sure to pick it up for you."

Kellin forces the corner of his mouth up into a smile. "Thanks. Um. I'm gonna go take a shower now, if that's okay?"

"Of course," Jaime nods. "No need to ask, dude. You can use any one you want, but the one upstairs works best - there should be towels and shit under the sink."

Awkwardly, Kellin stands up from the table and takes his plate over to the counter before slipping out of the room and up the stairs.

He turns into the bathroom and closes the door with a heavy sigh. Slowly, he peels off his shirt, leaving them it in a mournful, crumpled pile on the tile floor. A sudden echo of his mother's voice rings through his ears - _"Kellin, how many times have I told you to put your clothes in the laundry after you take them off?!"_

He's hit with a sudden pang of sadness - even though it's only been two days, she already feels a lifetime away. Kellin wonders if they've called the police yet.

Guiltily, he picks the shirt up off the floor and folds it.

 

\+ + +

 

When Kellin finally emerges from the shower some thirty minutes later and makes his way back downstairs, the guys are pressed together on the living room couch playing MarioKart.

Amusedly, he watches from the sidelines as Jaime viciously elbows Mike in the ribs. "Take that!"

"Oh my god, fuck you!"

"Fuck your _mom!_ "

Kellin can't help but to snort. "You guys are actually ten-year olds, aren't you?" he laughs.

"Damn right," Vic replies, intently focused on the screen. "And I'm going to win this race if it kills me."

Tony shrugs and flashes Kellin a _'what can you do?'_ glance. "You should start making that list," he suggests, "One of us can go out shopping as soon as you're done."

"Cheater!" Jaime dramatically accuses him, "You're just trying to eliminate your competition!"

Tony raises an eyebrow. "Maybe."

"Anyways, I vote Mike goes," Jaime mutters, turning a sharp corner and plunging his character into the abyss. "God dammit, I was in the lead!"

"Not anymore," Vic sniggers. "Also, I declare that the loser has to go shopping."

The other three let out a collective groan. "Call one of the other guys and make them do it," Mike suggests.

"Nope," Vic shakes his head. "Kellin, you better write at least two very embarrassing items on that list."

"Okay," Kellin agrees with an appropriately evil grin, moving back into the kitchen. He finds paper and a pen underneath the microwave and starts to write.

 

\+ + +

 

"Alright," Jaime mutters, scanning down the list. "Skinny jeans, band shirts, toothbrush, deodorant and--... _a dildo?!_ "

Kellin bursts out laughing, turning to Mike and Tony for a high five.

"Oh my god, please don't actually make me," Jaime begs, "Please tell me you're not serious."

Vic shrugs, grinning. "The kid wants what the kid wants, man. You gotta do it."

"Fuck." Jaime sighs, grabbing the car keys off the table by the door with a distinctly defeated slump to his shoulders. "God, you're such a bunch of sadists."

 

+


	4. shitstorm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kellin has a nightmare, Jaime is a mother hen, things kind of all go to hell and then Vic makes an apology omelet.

+

Jaime wakes up at 2:00AM to a faint, urgent knocking on the wood of his bedroom door.

"Jaime?" comes a wavering voice, "C-can we talk?"

Jaime turns on his lamp and rolls out of bed with a yawn, blearily checking the screen that displays the house video cameras out of habit before opening the door to see a very haunted-looking Kellin; his hair is lying wild around his face, skin pale like he's seen a ghost.

Jaime frowns, rubbing sleep from his eyes. "W'sup?"

Kellin bursts into tears.

"Oh," Jaime says, startled, "Hey, woah! C'mere, dude." He pulls Kellin into a tight hug. "What's wrong?"

"It's just--" Kellin whimpers into his shoulder, cutting himself off with a choked sob, "I don't-- I don't know, I'm sorry--," his breath hitches. "I mean, you and Mike and Tony and you're all-- and, and I--"

"Shhh," Jaime gently interrupts him, rubbing his back. "It's okay, it's okay. Slow down. Just breathe for a second."

He gently leads Kellin into the room and closes the door, sitting down on the bed to rub his shoulders. His shirt is damp with sweat. "Okay?" Jaime asks, once Kellin has mostly stopped hyperventilating.

Kellin nods once in reply, sagging. "O-okay," he hiccups. "I'm sorry for waking you up."

"No problem," Jaime reassures him. "You want to tell me what's wrong?"

"No," Kellin sighs. "Well, yes." He slumps defeatedly. "I-I don't know? I'm sorry. I had a bad dream."

"It's fine, dude. Take your time."

Kellin fidgets for a minute, then clears his throat - "It's just. I've been here for a week now and I'm feeling really... Confused?" He sighs again, playing with a piece of hair. "It's like, I feel like I should be homesick? But I'm not." He shrugs miserably. "You guys are so _nice_ to me all the time, so I kinda forget you're drug dealers but then I remember that you kidnapped me and then I just feel guilty for liking it here and liking all of you so much and--"

"Hey, woah! Just breathe, Kells. _Breathe_."

Kellin takes a few deep breaths, closing his eyes to steady himself. "This is what I'm talking about, Jaime," he continues after a moment. His voice is shaky - soft and vulnerable, like he might break if Jaime says the wrong words. "You're not supposed to be _nice_."

Jaime frowns. "We're... not?"

"No!" Kellin laughs, his eyes widening in hysterical disbelief. "You're a _drug dealer_ , Jaime! You're supposed to be, like, tough and muscley and scary and living in a shithole with eleven other scary dudes where you keep me chained to a basement wall and feed me bread once a week!" He weakly waves one arm in a vague gesture of some sort. "I should be _dead_ right now! But no - instead, I'm living in a fucking country house with a gay couple and two other _genuinely nice people_ who seem to do nothing but joke around play MarioKart all day. My _parents_ treat me worse than you guys do. I haven't seen anyone come by and you guys only leave on grocery runs - how do you guys even do business!?" he splutters, voice raising an octave, "Vic's, like, twenty! You're easily the youngest and least professional rich people I've ever met in my entire life!"

Jaime studies at him for a long moment of silence. "You done?" he eventually asks.

"Uh, y-yeah," Kellin replies, sheepishly ducking his head.

"Okay then," Jaime says neutrally. "I think there are a few things you need to understand - the first one being that we don't like you being here anymore than you want to be here. It's messy and it complicates everything, and honestly? I'm still not entirely certain why Vic decided to bring you along." He takes a deep breath. "Second of all: the reason you don't see any of our people because we don't _want_ you to see our people - Mike, Tony and I are all in charge of running separate sections of our territory, so we have lower-ranking people who do most of our business for us. Vic oversees the whole thing, which puts him at the very top of the chain - he has to be very wary of a lot of people, so not many of our guys even know where we live. Make sense?"

Kellin nods, looking dazed.

"So if a dirty basement and some bread is what you want, we can get it to you," Jaime finishes. "I mean, Vic's not really into bondage, but I could probably talk him into the chains if you really want them."

"N-no thanks," Kellin blushes. "I just. I really didn't mean to sound ungrateful or anything, Jaime, I just--"

Jaime shakes his head. "It's fine, I totally get it."

Kellin completely deflates. "I'm sorry for waking you up," he finally says. "I just feel... Weird. I had this dream that I was stuck inside the house and all the doors disappeared so I couldn't get outside and--" he stops himself with a shake of his head. "Never mind, it was dumb."

"No," Jaime insists, "It's fine. It's not dumb." He pauses, then, "Do you think it would make you feel better if you went outside?"

Kellin's head snaps up, eyes flashing in the golden lamplight. "Really?" he asks. "I could do that? Go outside?"

"Yeah," Jaime nods. "I was pretty surprised you hadn't asked yet. I mean, there's nothing really exciting close by and you're still listed as a missing person, so someone would have to come with you, but." He shrugs. "Other than that, I don't really see a problem - you've already proven yourself smarter than to try and make a break for it. I'll get it cleared up with Vic tomorrow."

"Oh," Kellin says after a minute. "I guess I just figured that was automatically out-of-bounds."

Jaime reaches out to continue rubbing his back. "You want to go try and get some sleep?"

Kellin shakes his head. "I'm scared I'll have another nightmare," he admits in a small voice. 

"That's fine," Jaime reassures him. "Just climb under my covers here, okay? You don't have to sleep, but at least you'll be comfy."

Kellin looks to exhausted to protest, and doesn't put up a fight when Jaime tucks him into the bed - "Thanks, Himes," he murmurs sleepily. "I'm really sorry for waking you up."

Jaime shakes his head. "Don't worry about it, man. Vic used to get nightmares all the time. Except he'd start screaming bloody murder across the hall and then wake up and try to shoot me." He grimaces. "Knives, fine. Bullets... Not so fine."

"Seriously?" Kellin lets out an amused huff of laughter, "He used to have nightmares?"

"Seriously," Jaime nods, sitting down on the bed by Kellin's calves, "Ever since I first knew him. They stopped last year, a week after he officially came into power."

Kellin hums sleepily, eyelids already starting to slip closed. "Do you think you could stay and talk to me for a little while?" he asks.

Jaime smiles. "Yeah, of course."

 

\+ + +

 

The next morning, Kellin wakes up alone, sprawled across Jaime's bed.

He stretches and stumbles upright, memories (and embarrassment) from the last night flooding back as he looks around; Jaime's room is not unlike his own - plain and white-walled - except for a few articles of clothing strewn about and a desk with a computer.

Kellin's eye is attracted to movement on the screen. Upon closer inspection, he realizes it's a picture of Mike, Tony, Vic and Jaime sitting around the kitchen table upstairs apparently deep in discussion. Kellin raises one eyebrow in surprise - he hadn't even noticed there were security cameras placed around the house, but the computer shows a different story.

With one last glance at the monitor, he combs a hand through his messy hair and exits the room.

Upstairs in the kitchen, low voices are carried to where Kellin is standing out of sight in the hallway.

"I don't know," someone - Tony? - sighs, "It doesn't matter how trustworthy you think he is, I still don't like the idea of him coming here."

"What else can we do?" Mike asks. There's a short pause, and Kellin holds his breath. "We can't let Vic go in there."

"Mike--" Vic starts, "I could just--"

"No," Jaime emphatically cuts him off, "Absolutely not. You're our first priority, and whoever this is will know that. We don't know what they want, but it could be you."

"This is their way of sending a message," Tony adds quietly.

_A message?_

"I don't care!" Mike snaps, "One of my guys is dead, one is being operated on as we speak and my main distributor is practically in pieces! We don't exactly have a choice here!"

When Vic speaks, his tone is grave. "Fine," he agrees, "Tony - go out and bring him in. Let him know we can transport the kid over as soon as he's out of surgery."

"Yes sir," Tony replies softly.

"We'll have to start rerouting most of the undelivered product to Jaime's guys in Mira Mesa for the time being," Vic sighs. "And for fuck's sake, someone please keep Kellin out of the way."

Kellin startles when he hears his name, heart thumping in his chest at the sound of chairs being pushed back and approaching footsteps.

He frantically tries to slip away, but Mike rounds the corner - before he knows what's happening, his wrists are held and his back is being pressed up against the wall. "How much of that did you hear?" Mike asks, tone carefully controlled.

Kellin swallows. "I-I didn't, it wasn't--"

"What's going on?" Tony asks from the kitchen, "Mike, where does..." he trails off, eyes flickering over to meet Kellin's with a heavy sigh. "Oh, fuck."

"I just heard that someone is dead and someone is sending a message," Kellin starts babbling, "I don't know, I swear, I don't even know what any of that means--"

"Vic, he was listening," Tony calls defeatedly. There's a sharp curse in reply, and then Vic appears, moving to stand behind Mike. 

Kellin shuts up.

"Let him go," Vic says carefully. Mike immediately releases his wrists and steps back, leaning against the opposite wall of the hallway. Vic sighs again, scrubbing a hand over his face. "You weren't supposed to hear that," he says after a moment, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"I-I'm sorry," Kellin mumbles, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to, I swear I didn't--"

"Vic--" Tony uncertainly interjects, "Don't you think--?"

"Get out of here," Vic orders, waving an impatient hand, "Tell Jaime to set up a bed in one of the main floor rooms. I've got this."

"Please, I'll didn't mean to--" Kellin pleads.

"'S fine," Vic interrupts, "Whatever. It's done now. All I need you to do is promise you won't breathe a word of this to _anybody_ , okay?"

Kellin quickly meets his gaze and nods. "I promise," he agrees. "I swear to God, I won't say anything."

"Good," Vic says, stepping back a little bit. "My plan was to see if we could get you to a different safe house, but some things happened last night and now that's out of the question. I've also agreed to temporarily shelter two of our guys while we get the situation under control." He takes a deep breath. "Short of locking you up in a room somewhere, I don't see any realistic way of keeping you guys separate for a few weeks, so. Looks like you're just going to have to put up with them for a while."

Kellin nods, for complete lack of anything better to say.

"From what Mike's informants have told him so far, one of them is gonna be in pretty bad physical shape," Vic continues, "Things are probably going to be gearing up around here, so we might have to ask you to help take care of him some of the time."

"Y-Yeah," Kellin agrees, "Okay, that's fine. I-- What happened to him, though? Is he...?"

"Stabbed, shot. The usual." Vic shrugs. "Our medic is pretty fucking talented though, so I expect he should eventually be able to make a full recovery."

Kellin feels his eyes widening. "O-oh. That's, um. Okay."

"Alright, well," Vic half-smiles after a moment. "Now that we've got all that covered, you want me to cook you an apology omelet for breakfast?"

 

\+ + +

 

Kellin and Jaime are sitting on the couch when a car finally pulls up in the driveway an hour and a half later.

"Woah, dude," Jaime remarks, setting a hand on Kellin's suddenly-tense shoulder, "Stay calm. He's a nice guy, I promise - I've met him before, and there's absolutely nothing to be scared of. He wouldn't be here if Vic didn't trust him."

"Thanks, man." Kellin isn't exactly reassured, but he still makes a conscious effort to breathe deeply and relax his muscles all the same.

And with that, the handle turns and the front door swings open.

 

 

+

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THANKS FOR READING!  
> idk how long im gonna keep writing this for, but ill probably do at least a few more chapters - looking forward to introducing some new characters...... >:)))


	5. backwards

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A new face is introduced, Kellin plays nurse, Vic calls a meeting and Jaime really only wants what's best for everyone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i think i might have inadvertently given kellin a stutter? whoops.
> 
> also i really need to hurry up and change the title and summary, sorry about that :/

+

"I could use a little help, here," Tony huffs from the doorway, grumpily straining forwards under the weight of the tall man currently draped over his shoulder.

Jaime immediately leaps off the couch to help support him from the other side, leaving Kellin to look on with wide eyes as they practically drag the man past him and in the direction of the kitchen - "What's happening?" he asks, cautiously standing up, "Who is that?"

"Distributor," Mike answers from the doorway, "My right-hand man. He's the one in charge of moving the product from our cooks to our vendors."

"What's wrong with him?" Kellin asks, shooting a worried glance over at the kitchen, "Is he injured, or something? Isn't he important? Is somebody going to take his place?"

Mike rolls his eyes. "God, do ever stop with the questions?" he mutters. "Anyways, no - he's not physically injured, just in a fuckton of shock. Yes, he's important, and yes, one of my other men has graciously offered to step in for him while we figure this whole mess out."

"Oh," Kellin says, shifting on his feet. There's a light thump and a guttural sob from the direction of the kitchen and then he hears Jaime's voice, low and soothing; "It wasn't your fault. You followed protocol perfectly. There's nothing more you could have done."

Mike cocks his head and shoots him a long, meaningful look. "Comforting's not exactly my strong suit," he states, "You want to go in there instead?"

"M-me?" Kellin stutters as Mike turns to go back outside, "Wait! What do you want me to do?"

"Grab some blankets," Mike instructs, "The guys should already know what to do, but make sure he's lying down with his legs raised, keep him warm and turn him on his side if he vomits. Don't let him eat or drink anything yet."

The door closes behind him and Kellin pads over to the kitchen, hesitantly peeking around the corner - the man is lying flat on the floor, with his feet propped up on a stool, shivering and staring blankly up at the ceiling while Jaime sits beside him, murmuring quiet reassurances. His skin is ashen.

"Um, Tony?" Kellin eventually asks, "Mike told me to come help out in here. And, uh, where do you guys keep the blankets?"

"There should be some in the guest room closet on the main floor," Tony absently answers from where he's leaning on the counter.

Kellin returns a moment later with an armful of three of the softest blankets he could find, immediately beginning to spread them out over top of the man. He's so tall that one blanket doesn't fully cover his legs.

"Thanks," comes a rasping voice. To Kellin's shock, he realizes the man's dull eyes are staring back at him.

"N-no problem," Kellin says, offering a half-smile.

Jaime pats the man's red-blanket-clad shoulder. "This is Kellin," he explains, "He's, um. He's staying with us for a while."

Kellin raises one hand in an awkward wave. "Uh. Does anyone need anything else?" he inquires, but there's no reply.

Tony clears his throat after a moment. "Do you know where Mike went?" he quietly asks.

Kellin shrugs. "Outside somewhere, I think?"

Tony pushes off the counter and exits the room. A moment later, Kellin hears the sound of the front door opening and closing.

"I should probably go get a few things settled with Vic," Jaime eventually sighs, getting to his feet. "Just stay here and keep talking to him for a little while, okay? He should start snapping out of it pretty quick. I'll be right back."

Kellin nods in agreement as Jaime disappears down the hall and into the office, leaving him standing in an uncomfortable silence. He tentatively approaches the man and sits down cross-legged on the tile kitchen floor at a safe distance.

"Hi," he says. "Uh, I'm Kellin. Which you already know." He inhales a sharp breath when the man's eyes flick over to his face. "Um. W-what's your name?"

To his surprise, the man clears his throat. "Austin," he replies, voice weak and gravelly, "It's Austin."

"Nice to meet you," Kellin replies. "Well, not nice because of-- Well. You know."

Austin huffs out a breath. "Do you, um. Do you know what happened to Alan?" he asks after a brief pause.

Kellin blinks. "Um, no," he manages, "Sorry. I don't know who that is."

"God, I hope he's gonna make it," Austin mumbles. He sighs. "There was so much blood everywhere, but I couldn't tell how much of it was his or Shay's."

"Oh," Kellin says dumbly. _Blood?_ he thinks, _Then Shay must have been the other guy Mike was--_

_Oh._

Austin closes his eyes for a long moment, then reopens them - "So you're the one they kidnapped, huh?" he asks. 

Kellin nods. "Y-yeah." He shifts a little bit closer to play with the edge of one of the blankets. "It's cool, though. I don't mind. I actually really like it here," he admits. "Everyone has treated me really nice so far."

Austin gives a slight nod. "They're my family," he says tightly, "They take care of us as best as they can, in this line of work."

"Ah." Kellin swallows, mind frantically racing to find something else to talk about. "So, uh, when's your birthday?" he nervously blurts out.

"September 27th," Austin answers with a humourless smile that quickly falls flat. "Just turned twenty one a few days ago."

"Cool. Uh. Happy belated birthday, I guess?" says Kellin. "I'm only seventeen," he admits, "Turning eighteen in April."

Something in Austin's dark, friendly eyes seems to freeze up. "Alan's a month younger than you," he says, voice quiet.

"O-oh," Kellin stammers, biting his lower lip as an invisible hand squeezes around his ribcage. He had assumed that Alan would be older. "I'm, uh, I'm really sorry about what happened."

Before Austin can reply, Jaime steps back into the kitchen - "Vic says we're all good to get you set up in the guest room," he says with a cheerful smile. "Are you ready to stand up yet, or do you need help?"

"'M good," Austin replies, dropping his legs to the floor with a thump and slowly sitting up, pushing the blankets off before unsteadily getting to his feet. He sways for a second, then suddenly lurches sideways, gripping at the table for support.

Jaime is at his side in a split second. "Woah, dude, take it easy," he advises, winding an arm around Austin's waist to support him. "Kellin, can you go to his other side?"

Together, the three of them slowly manage to get down the hall and into one of the bedrooms.

"Alright?" Jaime asks as they set Austin down on the side of the bed. "We're just going to let you rest a bit for now, or do you need anything else?"

Austin shakes his head. "Thanks," he says. Just as they're about to leave, he calls out again. "Wait, Jaime - what happened to Alan? Do you know if he's okay?"

Jaime sighs, fiddling with the doorknob. "I don't know," he answers truthfully. "He's alive, but we can't know the extent of the damage until Oli finishes up with the surgery and calls Vic."

Kellin watches as Austin slumps dejectedly, running one tattooed hand across his forehead. "Oh," he says eventually.

"It shouldn't be more than two or three more hours before we know what's happening," Jaime offers, stepping forward to comfortingly rub his shoulder. "I'm sorry, dude, and so is Vic. Whoever is responsible for this is going to pay."

Austin nods, and Jaime steps back to the doorway, flicking the light switch off and pulling the the door closed behind himself with a soft _click_. He pushes past Kellin with an oddly somber expression, leaving him to trail behind as he returns to the kitchen.

"Jaime?" Kellin asks softly, "What happened? Who are Alan and Shay?"

Jaime lets out a long exhale. "Alan and Shay are two of Mike's guys," he explains. "Alan is... important to Austin. Vic doesn't want me to tell you any of the exact details of the attack."

"What?" Kellin frowns, "But--"

"I know, I know," Jaime cuts him off, "Curiosity killed the cat, or whatever. Vic's leader, though, and what he says goes. So drop it."

"Fine," Kellin huffs, tracing his index finger in a swirl over the countertop. "How can you not know who's behind this, though?" he presses, "Don't you have, like, rival gangs and stuff? Someone who would want to attack you guys?"

Jaime shakes his head. "Not exactly. We've been on pretty stable terms with everyone lately, so this is kind of out-of-the-blue - that's why it's such a big deal. Normally, it wouldn't be." He shrugs. "Plus, Pierce the Veil is easily the biggest and baddest around here, so it would be downright suicidal to try and actually take us down. Vic isn't exactly known for being tolerant and merciful." Jaime sighs. "It's just like Tony said - it's a message."

"Wait, 'Piece the Veil'?" Kellin asks, "That your guys' name, right?"

"Yep," Jaime nods, pulling down the collar of his t-shirt to expose a tattoo of a rose with the letters 'PTV' written across the middle on his sternum. "We've all got 'em," he grins in response to Kellin's raised eyebrows. Below the rose, it says _'El diablo está en todo'._

"Wait, what does that mean?" he asks, pointing to the smaller script. "The devil... are in many?" At Jaime's amused expression, he offers a shrug - "I failed Spanish class," he mutters defensively.

Jaime laughs. "You were close, dude. It says 'The devil is in all'."

"That's pretty badass," Kellin remarks. "So... what are you guys going to do now, then?" he inquires after a pause. "After what happened with Austin and Alan and Shay, I mean," he clarifies.

"Vic's been making calls all morning to find out what's happening in the surrounding gangs right now," Jaime replies, resting his forearms on the counter. "And we're going to temporarily slow down business in the outskirts of Mike's sector while he gets Tino instated as distributor, which means increasing product flow to mine instead. Other than that, we continue as normal."

Kellin nods. Suddenly, the bang of a door being flung open sounds from the hall, making him flinch in alarm. Jaime straightens up.

A moment later, Vic storms into the kitchen. "Where are Mike and Tony?" he snaps. "We need to talk."

"Wh--?" Kellin starts, but stops himself when Vic turns to face him.

"Okay, two options: you can shut up and stop asking questions, or you can stay downstairs," he orders. "Either way, you are not to repeat a fucking word of this to anyone under any circumstances."

Kellin's eyes fly open in alarm. "Y-yessir," he mumbles.

"Good," Vic growls, "Now go find Mike and Tony." He turns back to Jaime. "Get Austin in here."

Kellin hesitates. "Um, Vic?" he asks tentatively, "They're outside, is it okay if--?"

Vic waves an impatient hand. "I don't care, just hurry the fuck up."

Heart pounding, Kellin scurries from the room, slipping his shoes on over his bare feet and taking a deep breath before opening the front door.

The bright white sky makes his eyes ache from being inside for too long, but the October wind feels magnificent as it ghosts over his skin; in the distance, a small cluster of thin, yellow-leaved trees sway to and fro, but there's no sign of Mike and Tony.

Kellin steps off of the front porch and rounds the side of the house. At the back, he finds a shed and some rose bushes. "Mike?" he calls uncertainly, "Tony?"

When there's no reply, Kellin continues to walk forwards. He wonders if they drove off somewhere without telling anybody, but then quickly dismisses the notion.

"Hey! Kellin!"

Kellin whirls around at the sound of a faint shout, speeding up to peek around the side of the house. "Hello?" he calls again.

"Look up, idiot!"

Kellin shields his eyes and squints, only to see Mike waving down at him from the second-story roof, Tony sitting by his side. "What the hell?" he hollers. "How did you even get up there?"

Mike shrugs. "Climbed. What's up, dude? Did Vic say you could be out here?"

"He wants to talk," Kellin yells back.

Mike looks over at Tony, then back at Kellin. "We'll be right down," he shouts.

Kellin shoots him a thumbs up before continuing around the house. He wistfully takes one last deep breath of fresh, autumn air, gazing across the expanse of open land before bounding up the front steps and letting himself back into the house.

"And?" Jaime greets him from the doorway of the kitchen. It sounds like Vic and Austin are talking inside.

"On their way," Kellin mutters, slipping his shoes off and stepping off the front mat. "What's got Vic's panties in such a knot?" he asks, lowering his voice to a whisper, "Did someone else die?"

"Whatever it is, he'll tell us in a moment." Jaime shrugs, then lets out a tense sigh. "But, I, um. I think maybe you should go downstairs for this one."

Kellin frowns, stopping dead in his tracks. "What? No," he objects, "Vic said I could stay!"

"I _know_ he did," Jaime raises a placating hand, "I don't know if you realize how serious this stuff is, though, Kells. People are going to die because of what's being discussed." He pauses, looking Kellin dead in the eye. "We aren't good people. I-... I think you would be happier if you didn't know what was happening."

Kellin crosses his arms. "What, so you're just going to keep me in the dark?" he asks incredulously, voice raising in pitch, "You _kidnapped_ me, Jaime! I think I deserve to know whatever the fuck is going on!"

Jaime winces. "No, wait, Kellin, I didn't mean it like that," he insists. "I just think maybe it would be safer for you to not get involved."

"So you're questioning your leader's judgement, then?" Kellin challenges, triumphantly watching as Jaime's lips fold into a thin, displeased line. 

Behind him, the front door opens and Mike and Tony step inside - "Hey, what's going on?" the latter asks, "Did something happen?"

Jaime gives him a long look. "Suit yourself," he finally grits out, then turns and vanishes into the kitchen.

 

+

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> holy shit, 10k words??? woah
> 
> as always, thank you so very much for reading! comments and/or kudos always make my day! :)
> 
> tune in next chapter to... find out why vic is grumpy...


	6. spiderwebs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some foreshadowing about characters yet to come (and Austin being in dire need of a nap).

"First order of business," Vic brusquely announces, "Oli's assistant called. Alan's ETA should be about six hours, give or take - she said Oli's just finishing up taking out the last of the removable bone fragments and bullet shrapnel and giving him a few stitches here and there, and then they have to wait for the morphine to wear off a bit before he can be assessed for brain damage." He turns to face Mike - "The plan is that Oli'll meet you downtown, and you'll drive the two of them the rest of the way over here. He's going to be staying with us for one to two days to keep an eye on Alan."

Mike nods, and Vic sighs. "Second order of business - Kean and Nicholls paged and told me the 5-0 have decided they're going to be turning a blind eye to the whole incident. So, we're all good on that front for now."

And lastly but most importantly," he pauses, "Danny left the Alexandria Family."

A shocked silence falls over the table, and Mike looks around with a look of incredulity. "What, what the fuck? He _dropped the flag_? Why?"

"Ben said had been... consistently displeased with most of the older members for quite some time," Vic explains, his expression stony, "But Ben didn't take his side, and there were too many for Danny to try and get rid of. So about three weeks ago, he finally took some of their guys with him and courted out. I'm thinking that's the reason for all of this."

"Why didn't Ben see fit to tell us this sooner?" Mike demands, "We had a fucking _agreement_ \--"

Vic holds up one hand, effectively cutting him off. "They're having a shift in leadership," he continues. "Now that Danny's gone, Ben says he wants to retry co-leading."

Jaime cocks his head. "But didn't--"

"I'm not done talking," Vic asserts. "There's also been talk that Black is considering the possibility of merging the Brides."

Across the table from Kellin, Austin keeps his gaze fixed firmly down at his lap; beside him, Tony exhales a long breath into his hands. "Well, shit."

"Shit is right," Vic agrees. "But I expect it'll take at least another few months before they reach a decision and integrate the two. Until then, we have plenty of time to deal with Danny."

"'Deal with Danny'?" Jaime air-quotes in disbelief. "Vic, you don't _deal_ with that guy! He's a fucking psychopath!"

"So, what, we don't do anything?" Mike growls, angrily turning to face Vic. "Psychopath or not, we have a reputation to uphold here. He's messing with our turf and taking out my higher-ups, we can't let just that slip!"

"I'm not saying--"

"Do we even know where--?"

"He won't--"

"We can't--"

"Are you sure Danny's the one who put a contract on Shay and Alan?" Austin quietly asks, still not looking up.

There's a long moment of silence before then Vic confidently answers, "Yes. He's the only one who could possibly have anything to gain from attacking us."

"If a guy like that quits the Alexandria Family, it has to mean he's starting over with the guys he took with him," Tony says gravely. "And that means--"

"He wants to start establishing his own kingdom," Mike finishes. " _Fuck._ "

"They attacked the outskirts for a reason," Jaime sighs. "That's bordering on the Romans' territory too, what do they have to say about all of this?"

Vic shakes his head - "It's far enough away from their operation that Pavone doesn't want anything to do with it. They won't be any help to us."

"So what can we do, then?" Tony asks.

"For now, there's not too much we can do other than getting word out to all of your people. Keep everyone informed, and keep 'em wary of anything that happens outside the norm. Mike - you can give the direction to go all city," Vic instructs. "Jaime and Tony - you guys can just continue operating as usual. I expect Danny'll find a way to contact us again when he's ready to start formally discussing business, but until then, we just have to stay on our toes. Got it?" Everyone nods, and Vic claps his hands. "Straight. Hopefully he'll come to his senses before we have to resort to anything drastic and this'll all blow over in a few months."

"Yeah, right," Mike mutters under his breath, "'Cause we all know fucking ' _Dsnop_ ' is so likely to just give up."

"Keep your opinions to yourself and do as you're told," Vic snaps, rising to his feet with an intense glare. "Now if you'll excuse me, I have a goddamn gang to run. Austin, hurry up and go take a fucking nap before you fall asleep on our table. We'll talk about this again later. And Kellin - come with me."

Startled, Kellin immediately scrambles out of his chair, shooting one last worried glance over at Jaime before quickly following Vic from the room. His head is aswim with things he doesn't understand but also doesn't dare to ask about - _Alexandria Family? Black? Brides? Danny? Romans? Pavone?_

To his surprise, instead of turning down the hall, Vic walks right out the front door in his bare feet. Kellin follows uncertainly after him. For a moment, they simply stand on the wooden front porch, suspended in a careful silence broken only by the wind - the late afternoon sky is a peacefully overcast shade of white-grey, and the light breeze gently tickles his cheeks.

"I owe you an apology," Vic finally says. "It's been a long day and sometimes I let my temper get the best of me, but I never should have snapped at you back there. So. I'm sorry."

"Oh." Kellin feels vaguely confused as he stares down at his feet. "Well, it's okay."

At this, Vic gives a slight shake of his head. "It's really, really not," he chuckles. "I mean, I know you've only been here for a week, but... It looks like you came at a bad time. Things aren't usually this intense, you know?"

Kellin _doesn't_ know, but he nods anyways.

"God, I wasn't even thinking," Vic continues with a heavy sigh, mouth quirking up into a humourless smile. "If it makes any difference to you, I feel guilty as shit right now."

"It's fine," Kellin mumbles, awkwardly shifting his weight.

There's a pause; Vic clears his throat. "Do you miss them yet?" he asks, "Your parents? Friends?"

"Not really," Kellin truthfully admits. "It hasn't really been that long, but... I dunno. Back home, Jack was kind of my only friend. I don't have the greatest relationship with my parents, either." He shrugs. "If anything, this is kinda. Well. I kinda like it here so far."

When he eventually looks up, he finds Vic looking at him with a strange expression on his face. His eyes look old and tired when he speaks - "You know it might be a while before you can go back there, right?"

Kellin shoots him a small smile. "Yeah, I know."

For a second it looks like Vic wants to say something more, but then at the last second he blinks and the customary cheerful demeanour instantly reappears - "Do you want Mike to go pick up some more books when he goes into town this afternoon?" he asks.

Eagerly, Kellin nods. "I'm already almost done all of the others," he sheepishly admits.

"Alright, nerd," Vic grins. "Hey, you're still on board with helping our medic out for a little while, right?"

"Sure," Kellin agrees, sending a silent prayer there won't be too much blood involved. "That's... Oli, right? The medic, I mean?"

"That's the one," Vic answers with a mischievous glint in his eye, "He's a bit of an acquired taste."

Kellin frowns, which only seems to add to Vic's great amusement. "God, you're precious," he laughs. "Don't even worry about it, man. I can already tell he's gonna love you." He shakes his head a little, then turns to head back inside. "Tell Jaime I'm in the office and not to bother me, would you? I've got a shit ton of things to sort out right now."

+

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> idfk where im going with this in the long term?? but im starting to get a few ideas so watch out  
> -  
> sorry for the super-slow update! (i had a crisis with my notes and finally ended up having to email chunks to myself...sigh..)  
> as always, thanks for reading (and please feel free to let me know what you think so far)! :)


	7. (d)evil

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Alan arrives, Kellin plays nurse (again) and Oli gets a backstory (plus some instant noodles).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> still not sure how this chapter ended up almost 4k words???  
> enjoy! :)  
> (PS: spot the cameo characters...)

+

_"Don't even worry about it, man. I can already tell he's gonna love you."_

Vic's earlier words echo through Kellin's head as he stares wide-eyed at the tall, almost slender-looking man standing on the door mat in front of him. "H-hi," he stutters out after a moment of silence, "Uh, I'm Kellin."

The man smirks faintly, but Mike cuts in before he can speak. "For god's sakes," he rolls his eyes, "Play nice, Oli. He's a guest."

The newcomer - Oli - only grins wider. "A guest, huh? What's Vic have to say about that?"

Before Kellin can fully contemplate the surprise of his strong accent, a new voice chimes in from the hallway - "Hey, man!" Jaime grins, stepping past Kellin to bump fists with Oli. "I thought I heard that weird accent all up in here. Long time no see, amigo."

Oli huffs an amused breath. "Let's keep it that way, yeah?"

"Definitely," Jaime grins, "Oh, yeah - where's Alan?"

"He's in a chair," Mike replies, "Tony's just wheeling him around to the back door to avoid the stairs."

Jaime nods, looking out the doorway. By now, it's already dark out. "Just make sure you get the car parked ASAP, alright? Vic's stressed enough as it is without us getting on his bad side."

"Yeah, I'll go move it now," Mike agrees, jingling the car keys in his hand and stepping outside. "You guys might want to keep Austin in his room while you get Alan settled."

"Austin's here?" Oli asks, scrunching his nose. He shrugs off his black coat to reveal a sleeveless blue scrub shirt and two arms covered in colourful tattoos. "I sent him off a while ago, thought he went back to headquarters - Vic didn't say--"

"It's still a bit on the down-low," Jaime shrugs. "Just a short-term thing - he's mostly here 'cause he'd be a liability anywhere else. Besides, fuck knows we can't try to separate him from Alan for more than twenty-four hours," he adds with a dismissive chuckle. "He's still sleeping everything off right now, though, so I doubt he'll get in the way."

Just then, the handle of the door leading into the kitchen twists, opening with a faint creak. Kellin turns to see Tony pushing a wheelchair with a small, orange-haired boy slumped exhaustedly in the seat - he looks about all of three seconds away from passing out. "Is the room all set?" Tony quietly asks, looking to Jaime for an answer and receiving a nod in reply.

"I'll take over from here," Oli interjects, walking over to take Tony's place. "Kellin, come." He starts towards the hall, the boy keeping his eyes fixed on the floor the whole time.

Kellin starts a little at being spoken to. He doesn't miss the way Jaime and Tony quickly exchange raised eyebrows, but if either of them think it's at all unusual for Oli to address people like dogs, they give no further indication. "Should I--?" he starts, uncertainly stepping in the direction where Oli and the boy vanished when Tony gives an encouraging nod.

Kellin turns the and walks forwards, then freezes in front of the door across from Austin's room - _Should I knock?_ he debates, mentally wringing his hands, _What if there's a lot of blood involved? What if he hates me? What if--?_

"Come in already," Oli says from inside. Kellin can practically hear the exasperated eye-roll, but he does as he's told and edges the door open before slipping inside. The ginger boy - Alan - is lying limply on the bed, his bare upper body covered in various patches of gauze and bandages. Kellin swallows. "Vic told me you're the one in charge of helping me out for the next few days," Oli continues, pushing the empty wheel chair aside. "Correct?"

Kellin quickly nods. "Yessir."

"First off - I don't need any of that 'sir' bullshit," Oli waves one hand, "Just Oli's fine. There probably won't be too much for you to do here, anyways, but I like to be better safe than sorry. Got it?"

"Yessi--" Kellin cuts himself off, "Uh, I mean, yeah. Definitely. Got it."

Oli shoots him a weird look, but turns back to the bed and hovers over Alan's motionless form, mumbling something under his breath - "C'mere a sec," he instructs, waving Kellin over. "Look here--" he points to a neat diagonal line of stitches just under the boy's ribcage, "I had to do a simple suture to stop the bleeding vessels in his liver. That's the main wound I'm concerned about so far, 'cause the risk of infection is more serious," he explains. "Oh, and that nasty one on his forearm, there, that could be trouble. We'll see. I might try and put a drain in that tomorrow, provided Austin manages to back off for ten minutes," Oli mutters. "Anyways. The rest," he gestures to the small patches and dressings and peppering the rest of his body, "seem to be pretty straightforward, as you can see. His body seems to be healing around the bullets pretty well at this stage."

Kellin just nods, awkwardly peering down at Alan over Oli's shoulder. The boy's eyes are closed and he looks asleep; his bright hair lies tangled against the starched white of the pillow, a small cut above his brown bone and painful-looking scrapes covering the left side of his face. Although someone has clearly washed him down, there are still stubborn flecks of crusty, dried-brown blood clinging to his neck.

"The most important thing to keep in mind is that his wounds are dry and that they stay that way," Oli continues. "He'll probably be in quite a bit of pain for the next little while, so we'll start by changing the bandages for him about once every day or two." Again, Kellin just nods along. "Fantastic. We'll let Austin cover the sponge baths and shit, but I'll put you in charge of feeding and watering - he's going to be dehydrated as fuck when he wakes up tomorrow, so give him a shit ton of water and something healthy. Ideally eggs and peanut butter toast, if these animals you live with have the ingredients. Sound good?"

"Y-yeah! Sounds great," Kellin mumbles, blushing slightly.

Oli narrows his eyes for a moment, then straightens up. "Well. Alan needs to rest now, and I have to check in with Vic, so just go do what the fuck it is you do for fun around here. Check back in on him every so often and let me know if he starts bleeding, vomiting or having trouble breathing. Or if you have any questions, or whatever. If Austin tries to get in, I give you full permission to smack him as hard as you can."

"Alright," Kellin softly agrees with a slight smile. "Oh, wait! Um, I don't think Vic wants to be disrupted," he mumbles.

Oli pauses just outside the doorway. "Yeah?" he smirks. "Well, I'm the one who saved his life three times last year, so I think he can make a point to speak to me."

With that, he winks and walks away, leaving Kellin standing uncertainly beside the (sleeping?) boy. He stays there for a moment and listens to the click of the a door closing in the hallway before feeling creepy and awkwardly shuffling out of the room.

As he passes by the office door, he hears muffled voices from inside; "Good, good," Vic is saying, "I don't know what the fuck I would tell Austin if he wasn't."

There's a chuckle, then Oli speaks - "He's a trooper. And not to brag, but I happen to be a pretty good trauma surgeon myself."

"Damn right. Remind me to give you a massive Christmas bonus this year," Vic laughs. "We'll be transferring the two of them over to Jaime's territory once they're ready to go - it'll be safer, until we get this whole mess sorted out."

There's a pause. "And Kellin?" Oli eventually asks.

Kellin flinches away from the door as if burned. Still, even though he knows it's wrong, he can't quite bring himself to turn and walk away.

"He's a mistake," Vic replies after a moment. "I don't think he even knew what was going on at first, but then Mike flipped out and pulled a fucking gun on him, so I thought it would be best to just take him with us. Eliminate the risk of getting the 5-0 involved, you know? Especially since it wasn't even our territory to begin with." He sighs, and something inside the room creaks faintly. "I dunno anymore, man," Vic continues, "I have no idea what to do with him other than keeping him out of harm's way, and he already knows way too much to just send him back home." There's another gap in the conversation. "At least he's finally off the news."

"I've gotta eat and take a nap," Oli announces after a pause, "But I'll think about this and we'll talk more later, yeah?"

"Hah, yeah," Vic quietly says. "It's good having you here, man."

"It's good to be back," Oli replies. There's a few shuffling sounds as if a person if standing up, and Kellin quickly races back into Alan's room as quietly as possible. He looks around for something to pretend to be doing, then decides on sitting in the wheelchair - "Wh--?" comes a raspy voice. "Who're--?"

Kellin looks up to find a pair of puzzled brown eyes looking back at him. _Later_ , he mouths to Alan, widening his own eyes and holding a finger up to his lips with an expression of urgency.

The ginger boy frowns slightly, but seems to understand - he turns his head back to the ceiling and closes his eyes just as the doorknob starts to turn.

"Oi, Kellin?" Oli quietly asks, peering inside, "Oh, hey. Just wanted to let you know I'm going to make myself something to eat and then pass out on the couch, if you want to join."

Kellin silently nods in surprise, carefully standing up out of the chair and sending once last glance over at Alan's seemingly-sleeping form before following Oli out of the room. He'll have to introduce himself later.

 

\+ + +

 

"So Medical Sciences at Oxford, huh?" Kellin asks, knocking his heels against his stool where he's sitting at the counter.

Oli nods into the dregs of his bowl of instant noodles. "For a while, yeah."

"Then... How did-- Why--?"

"How did I end up here, you mean?" Oli inquires with an amused tilt to his lips. His chuckle is mischievous when Kellin tentatively motions for him to continue. "It's easy, I suppose. All the people there were stuck-up wankers, so I dropped out and flew to America. I was essentially homeless for seven months until I found Ben - one of Taylor's guys - bleeding out in a gutter one night about three years ago." Oli shrugs. "I fixed him up, she valued my work and I got m'self hired the next day."

"Taylor?" Kellin asks, confused. "Who's that?"

"Former leader," Oli dismissively waves his spoon, "She got herself shanked in prison two or so years back. There was some grumpy old bastard called Hoppy for a few months, until then he got shot in the head, which left Vic next in line. He's been leading ever since."

 _Duh_ , Kellin thinks, mentally shaking his head as Oli eats another spoonful of soup. _Obvious. Jaime definitely said something about that yesterday - of course Vic inherited the title, what with him being so young and all._ "That's, um. Interesting."

Oli snorts. "Nah, it's really not," he shakes his head. "What about you, then? How did you end up here?"

"How _I_ ended up here?" Kellin repeats, feeling his eyebrows raise. "Uh... I dunno. Um? There's not really much to it." He gives a meek shrug. "I'm just a normal teenager who got kidnapped."

Oli sets his empty bowl in the sink alongside another dirty plate. "Duh," he rolls his eyes, leaning forward to rest his elbows on the countertop, "But how, exactly?"

"Uh. Well, I was going over to my friend - Jack's - house after school last week, and then... I accidentally wandered into a drug den," he sheepishly admits. "I don't know. I mean, I was just walking through the neighbourhood in front of his? And-- And there was this big old ramshackle building, so I walked in and went upstairs even though I _knew_ it was a bad idea. I heard some people talking in another room, and I stepped on something loud and then Mike came out and started yelling - he had a gun, so I freaked out, and. Well," he splays his hands, "Here we are."

"Here we are," Oli echoes. His expression is contemplative. "Well, it's getting pretty late. I'm going to go watch crap telly until I fall asleep, and I'll teach you how to change Alan's dressings tomorrow afternoon," he yawns, stretching. "G'night."

Kellin watches him leave the kitchen, pulling his shirt off as he goes to expose 'Pierce The Veil' written across his shoulder blades in the same font as Jaime's tattoo the previous day. Below it, there's what looks to be an intricate design of a fox. _A brand_ , Kellin absently thinks. A minute later, he hears the TV turn on and something that sounds suspiciously like 'Todders In Tiaras' start playing.

" _With the show only three days away and Amelie's dress still in the making, her mother and talent agent are beginning to..._ "

That night, alone in his bed in the basement, Kellin tosses and turns. His mind wanders to the boy his own age lying upstairs with a body riddled with bullet wounds, then to the tattooed Oxford-dropout-turned-gang-medic sprawled on the couch - _Did either of them deserve this?_ he wonders as his tired mind slips off into unconsciousness, 

_Do_ any _of them?_

 

\+ + +

 

The next morning, Kellin makes his way upstairs at eight thirty to make Alan breakfast. He's no master chef by any means, but the end product is toast that isn't burnt and eggs that aren't undercooked, so he's going to go ahead and count it as a win; all in all, it looks pretty damn appetizing.

When he reaches Alan's door and knocks to deliver the meal, Austin answers - "Oh, hey," he smiles, pulling the door open to reveal Alan sitting propped up on some pillows on the bed. Both of them are looking marginally less exhausted than the previous day.

"Hi," Kellin awkwardly greets them, stepping forward to hand Alan the plate and a fork. "Um, nice to meet you, by the way. I'm Kellin. The, uh, kidnappee."

The orange-haired boy gives him a faint grin. "Nice to meet you. I'm Alan, but I guess you already know that - I work as a dealer in Mike's chain-of-command," he introduces himself matter-of-factly.

"Nice," Kellin nods, shuffling backwards. "Well, I'll, uh. Leave you guys to it," he blurts, waving spastically before exiting the room and pulling the door shut behind him. _God,_ he curses, mentally face-palming. _The one kid here his age and he can't even manage to make a normal first impression._

"Yo," Mike greets him when he walks shamefacedly back into the kitchen. Behind him, a glasses-clad Tony looks up and shoots him a warm smile before resuming reading a stack of papers. "You saw the books I got for you yesterday on your bed?"

Kellin grins. "Yeah - they're great," he enthuses, "Thanks a lot, dude."

"No problem," Mike replies with a gruff nod. He pauses, then adds, "There's not much to do right now, seeing as Austin's playing mama bear and Oli's still drooling on the couch, but... If you want, uh, maybe someone could take you outside? For a walk?"

"Really?" Kellin asks after a moment, eyes wide, "I mean, I don't want to cause anybody trouble or anything, but--"

"Who's causing trouble?" a neutral voice inquires.

Kellin turns around to see Vic entering the kitchen. "N-no one," Kellin is quick reassure him, "I'm not-- We're not--"

Vic looks vaguely amused at his pathetic mumbling. He nods to Mike and Tony before opening the fridge door, poking around a bit and pulling out a styrofoam container of two-day-old Pad Thai before grabbing a fork from the drawer and rounding the counter. "Jaime still asleep?" he asks Mike, who nods. "Good. He was up pretty late last night." To Kellin's horror, he then begins the noddles cold. Straight from the container. 

"You're... not going to heat that up?" is all he manages, attempting to keep his inner expression of disgust from showing on his face. Vic laughs and takes another bite.

"You should go take Kellin for a walk outside," Mike finally announces, clapping Vic on the shoulder. "Take a break and get your mind cleared, or whatever."

Vic pauses, then nods. "Yeah, sure," he looks to Kellin. "Just gimme a sec to finish this and then I'll be right there."

"Oh," Kellin says. He swallows. "Okay, that's. That's cool." _Going for walks with gang leaders, that's... Fantastic! Not weird in the slightest!_

"It's cold out, so go take someone else's jacket from the closet," Tony advises. Mike snorts and makes a face at him, to which Tony simply rolls his eyes in fond exasperation. _What?_ he mouths.

"I _said_ ," Mike smirks, "Those glasses are cute. You should wear them more often."

And so five minutes later, for the second time in twenty-four hours, Kellin is standing on the front porch beside Vic. "Where to?" he finds himself asking, blinking uncertainly up at the dreary grey sky as he fiddles with the cuffs of the oversized dark blue jacket he grabbed from the closet. The weather currently looks to be a few hours away from raining.

Vic shrugs. "Dunno. There's not really too much around here except grass and the house," he replies. "Let's just starting walking, I guess." 

Kellin follows as he steps down off of the wooden porch and starts to head in a rough diagonal line away from the left side of the house. "So... do you go out here for walks very often?" he eventually asks, just for the sake of having something to fill the air between them.

Vic shakes his head. "Nah. I haven't had too much free time for the past year, and when I do, I tend to spend it in the company of... less-savoury characters, in less-savoury places."

"Ah," Kellin raises his eyebrows, "I, um, I see."

Vic laughs. "You're kinda cute," he grins. "Like, a puppy or something. I dunno. You're just so... innocent, about everything."

"Innocent?" Kellin frowns, "I'm not--"

"Yeah, you are," Vic says, firmly nodding as if he's made up his mind about something. "I like it. It's nice having you around, even if it is under shitty circumstances. You're really different than everybody else I meet these days."

Kellin tucks his face into the top of his jacket, looking down at his feet as they carry him over the grassy field. He can feel his nose and cheeks turning pink from the cold breeze.

"Vic," he starts after another long moment, then trails off into silence once more. He sighs. "I-If you don't mind me asking. I just--... How old were you when you got into all this?" he asks. "I mean, because I didn't know about-- But then I saw Alan and he's only--"

Vic gives him a sideways look that shuts him up, then exhales a long breath. "Well, it's kind of a long story," he says, looking down. "My whole family's been involved with Pierce The Veil since before I can remember, so it's not like I ever really had a choice. I grew up being expected to join, so I did." The corner of his mouth twitches downwards. "I officially got initiated when I turned fourteen. I tried to stop Mike from joining and taking after me, but we were dirt poor and apparently that son of a bitch is incapable of listening to reason. So here we both are," he shrugs. "It's a pretty typical story around these parts."

Kellin just puts his head down and keeps walking. _Jesus Christ,_ he thinks, _Fourteen years old_. He can't even fully contemplate the information. 

Truth is, even after a week of living with the guy, he still has absolutely no idea where he stands with Vic; sometimes he's happy and cheerful like any other normal twenty-something, but other times it's downright nerve-wracking to even be in the same room as him.

"We should probably start heading back," Vic quietly suggests after a few more minutes of walking in silence. Obediently, Kellin turns and follows in his footsteps as they make their way back to the house.

 

\+ + +

 

"Christ. Don't be shy, just hurry up and pull it off already."

Kellin pauses at painstakingly removing the dressing on Alan's left side. "I'm trying to be nice," he frowns up at Oli. "If you hate what I'm doing so much, do it yourself."

"Only 'cause it'd be three fucking hours quicker," Oli mutters under his breath. "I only offered to teach you to change the dressings so we could be done faster, but now I'm afraid it's backfiring horribly."

Alan laughs - "I can't really feel anything, anyways," he reassures Kellin, craning his neck to watch him work. "Just tear it off all at once. Like a band-aid."

"But I don't want to hurt you," Kellin frowns, once again resuming gently and slowly separating the bandage from his skin.

After a few more moments of this, Oli finally leans over and sharply rips the old dressing off with a painful sound that makes Kellin's skin crawl in sympathy. Alan doesn't even flinch.

"Now, examine the wound," Oli directs. "Look closely. Tell me - does it look irritated or infected? Is there any excessive pus or bleeding?"

"Uh, n-no," Kellin replies, wrinkling his nose as he takes a closer look at the hole in Alan's side. "I mean, at least I don't think so? It just looks really gross and scabby, but I'm pretty sure that's normal--"

Oli rolls his eyes for probably the hundredth time in the past fifteen minutes, then shoos Kellin out of the way and moves in closer. "See how the edges look, here?" he asks, pointing. Kellin nods. "It's a bit on the moist side, but the surrounding skin isn't red or swollen - that's a good thing. It means the wound doesn't look like it's getting infected," he explains. "So, now that we know it's good to go, we can clean it and put the new dressing on."

"O-okay," Kellin nods. "How do I...?"

"Sanitize again," Oli instructs, squirting a bit of hand-sanitizer into his open palm and waiting for him to rub it in. "Good. Now, grab the saline and moisten that gauze pad - yeah, the tiny one right there. Just get it a bit damp, but not soggy. That should be enough. Yep. Now, unfold it a bit - just like that - scrunch it up, and put over top of the wound. You don't have to press it." Kellin does as he's told, warily placing the wad of gauze over the bullet hole - "Good," Oli lazily praises him, "Next, you're going to rub skin this protector stuff around it - perfect. Now just put that larger pad over the whole thing, tape it on and move on to the next one."

Alan groans, the sound making his chest vibrate. "How long is this gonna take?"

"At the rate he's moving?" Oli snorts, "About six more hours. You might want to get comfortable, mate."

Just for that, Kellin grumpily flips him the bird as he carefully and precisely smooths down the line of tape.

 

+

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i didn't originally plan for this to be a long-term thing??? so now i'm stuck tryna do a fuckton of research and patch up all my unfortunate plotholes from the first two chapters  
> ah, well... not like this was ever ultra-plausible anyways lmao :)
> 
> THANKS SO MUCH FOR READING, GUYS! it means the world to me that you stick around. As always, kudos and comments are amaaaazing :)


	8. faraway

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kellin has a nightmare, Oli does "most of the pegging", there are pancakes involved and then we discover Danny is basically a way sketchier version of Johnny Depp.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i apologize for the sporadic updates. sometimes i get good ideas and stuff and then other times im like. HaHa What's A Sentence? ? ?  
> anyways, enough about me - hope y'all enjoy this one! :)

+

_He's terrified, running, heart pounding as he tries to duck, dodge, twist out of the way before the lamp can make contact with his collarbone, narrowly avoiding getting hit but watching it shatter on the wall right next to his shoulder. It sprays sharp, glittering shards of transparent glass all over the room like a tumbling skiff of snowflakes, prickling and piercing the skin of his face--_

"Oi, Kellin! _Kellin!_ Wake the fuck up!"

 _There's blood everywhere, gushing wetly from his eyes and his scalp, down his shirt, in drops all over the floor to pool amongst the beautiful glass. He's not safe yet. There are more of them, everywhere, one peering through the window across the room with holes for eyes and a gaping maw bristling with elongated teeth like a wolf's and_ "Fuck, no, no, please no," he's whimpering as he slips into awareness, frantically scrambling out from under the bed covers in a mess of sleepily unresponsive limbs.

"Kell? Are you a'right?" a familiar, accented voice is asking, concerned as a shadowy figure approaches and _fuck, no, it's one of them, reaching out with a clawed hand to grab him and pull him down and--_

"Ow!" The person yelps when Kellin's heel makes firm contact with a toned stomach, "Fucking Christ, calm the fuck down! What the hell?!"

"Sorry, sorry," Kellin gasps, finally coming to his senses and looking wildly around the white room to see a familiar face. He hunches forwards on his arms, breathing heavily. "Fuck. Oh god, 'm sorry, Oli, I swear-- I didn't mean to--"

"Woah, woah! It's fine, mate," Oli reassures him, all the while maintaining a careful distance, "I got out of the shower and I heard you yell, I just thought..." he trails off. "Oh, shit, d'you want a Kleenex or something?"

"Huh?" Kellin blinks dazedly. "Oh. Oh, fuck." A drop of warm liquid slides down his chin and drops onto his thigh - he raises a hand to his face and then squints down at his hands, finding them sticky. "Shit."

"I'm gonna turn the light on, okay?" Oli asks. Kellin grunts in agreement and he flips the switch, causing them both to blink blearily in the bright light. "Holy fuck," Oli exclaims, his eyebrows arching in mild surprise. "That's a pretty wicked nosebleed you got there, mate."

Kellin gazes ruefully down at his blood-coated hands. There are tacky brown smears all over his forearms and the front of his t-shirt clings wetly against his skin, the pillowcase and sheets around him painted with slick red like some kind of bizarre modern art. "Shit," he repeats.

"Shit," Oli agrees, then, "Okay, Come on. Let's get you cleaned up."

"But I have to wash the sheets or else they'll stain," Kellin mournfully supplies, reaching up to clutch at his nose in a futile attempt to staunch the hot flow of blood running down his chin.

"Shower now, sheets later. You look like you just tore someone's throat out with your teeth."

"Fine," Kellin agrees, his voice pinched and nasally. "Just let me take them off before it goes through into the mattress, or something," he grumbles. He moves to stand up, but instead finds himself listing pathetically to the right with a huff of breath as his head spins, his vision briefly going black around the edges.

Oli's at his side in a moment to steady him with an arm around his side. "You're fine, you've just lost a lot of blood," he says brusquely. "Bathroom. Now."

Kellin allows himself to be guided into the bathroom next door and plunked down on top of the lid of the toilet as Oli pours him a glass of water from the sink. "Sit up straight, pinch your nose, tilt your head forward and drink this," he orders, handing it over before leaning against the counter with crossed arms. "All of it. And then hurry up and get in the shower."

Kellin takes a few tentative sips, allowing the cool water to wash out the coppery taste coating his tongue. When it quickly becomes clear Oli isn't going to budge until he finishes the entire glass, he starts taking long gulps until it's finally empty. The blood covering the lower half of his face is rapidly drying into a flaky mess.

"Can you, um," he starts uncertainly, handing the cup back and unsteadily standing up, "...Turn around for a sec?"

"Christ. It's not like it's anything I haven't seen before," Oli rolls his eyes, but he concedes to turn around nonetheless. "I'm a doctor, for fuck's sakes."

"Whatever," Kellin mumbles in reply, cheeks burning as he shucks his shirt as quickly as humanly possible before slipping off his boxers and darting behind the shower curtain. He takes a breath and turns the handle to hot, barely holding in a squeak of shock when the freezing water hits his skin.

"'Sides, I have a boyfriend," Oli continues.

The water slowly starts to warm up as Kellin gently rubs the dried blood off of his arms. "Yeah?" he asks, curiosity finding its way into his tone. "I wouldn't peg you for the type."

"Yeah, well, maybe that's 'cause I'm the one doing most of the pegging."

Kellin barks a startled laugh, peeking out the side of the shower curtain to see Oli sitting on the counter with a smirk on his lips. "Seriously, though? _You_ have a boyfriend?"

Oli nods. "Seriously. His name's Josh."

"So what's he like?" Kellin finally asks, letting the shower curtain fall back into place. He scrubs a hand down his chest, watching as it drags a red-brown stream of water circling around the drain before disappearing.

"He's a right wanker," Oli immediately replies, "Most of the time, anyways." His shrug is almost audible. "We're not exclusive, or any o' that shit, but it's nice to have a sure thing sometimes, you know?"

"And that's just... okay, with everyone? That you're hooking up with another dude?" Kellin frowns. "Do they know?" His mind drifts back to Mike and Tony, or what may or may not be happening between Alan and Austin; it's a question he's been tempted to ask for a while.

"Yeah, they know. Pretty much everyone's cool about it," Oli replies. "Vic clearly doesn't have any issues concerning sexuality, and his opinion's basically the only one I care about. Everyone here tends to be pretty open about that shit since he got promoted to boss. And it can't help that I literally hold the power of life and death for most of these guys, either," he adds with a dark chuckle. "Keeps 'em on their toes."

Kellin hums, absently scratching at the side of his neck. There's a lull in the conversation until Oli asks, "Have _you_ ever had a boyfriend?"

"Hah," Kellin shakes his with a humourless smile, "No. Definitely not - my parents are super religious. I had a girlfriend for two weeks in grade nine, though." He pauses. "What makes you think I'm gay, anyways?"

There's a snort from the direction of the bathroom, then full-on laughter. Kellin pokes his head out behind the shower curtain with a frown. "What?" he asks indignantly, "It was a reasonable question."

"Yeah, but," Oli chuckles, "You're just," he waves an arm at Kellin, " _You_." He rolls his eyes at Kellin's affronted expression - "'S'not like it actually matters or anything, mate. Lit'rally no one cares."

After a moment, Kellin narrows his eyes and withdraws his head, returning to rubbing his neck. "So which one of the guys does Josh work for?" he inquires, in an attempt to change the conversation.

"Tony," Oli replies, "He's a distributor."

"Mike said that's what Austin is, right?"

"Yeah." There's a faint thump from the bathroom and then Oli announces, "I'm gonna go grab you some clothes and put the kettle on, okay? I'll be right back."

 

\+ + +

 

"Better?"

"Loads," Kellin nods, nestling the warm ceramic mug of tea between his palms. He offers a tired smile - "Thanks for waking me up, man."

They're sitting on the upstairs couch together, Kellin's legs curled up in front of himself as he inhales earl-grey scented steam. Outside the window, the first orange tendrils of sun are just beginning to slip their way over the distant horizon.

"No problem," Oli eventually replies. "Do you, er, want to talk about it at all?"

Kellin has to laugh at his suddenly awkward demeanour. "No, no. It's fine, dude," he eventually gets out, "No need to talk. It's cool." The two of them sit in comfortable silence while Kellin sips his tea. After a long while, he sighs; "I'm getting a lot of special treatment from everyone around here, aren't I?" he quietly asks.

Oli frowns. "Wait, what? What d'you mean?"

"I dunno, just..." Kellin contemplatively trails off, "I just mean, like, everyone is really nice and patient all the time. And it's probably 'cause you're under orders and you pity me 'cause I was a screwup or whatever, but it's just... I dunno. It's weird, how you treat me as opposed to each other."

"A bit, yeah," Oli shrugs. "You're not actually a member, though," he points out, "You're a guest. We treat you different 'cause you're an outsider."

Kellin nods and takes another sip of bitter tea, turning his tired gaze to the field beyond the windowpane. "I wonder what it would be like if I was," he says softly. "A member, I mean. There aren't really any big gangs that I know of back in my city... How would you describe it, d'you think?"

"Honestly?" Oli asks, "It's terrible. The moment you get initiated, you have to live knowing that you or one of your best mates might not be alive tomorrow." One side of his mouth quirks up into a half-smile - "Once you're in, there's no way out - either you get killed, kill yourself, or shut up and follow your orders, even if it means killing someone else. You've got to watch your back, otherwise you'll get a bullet right between your shoulder blades." He pauses. "It's also the absolute best feeling in the world, too, though - finally having money, and a home, and a gigantic family of people you've just barely met," he continues, looking down at his hands. "It's a great feeling, to know someone else's got your back 'cause they know you've got theirs. It's like... Belonging." He stops for a moment, then shrugs. "I dunno. It's as good as a group of people committing crimes gets, I guess."

"I guess," Kellin echoes, then, "You're leaving this morning, right?"

"Yeah," Oli eventually replies. "I've already been here longer than originally planned. Alan's made a great recovery and he's pretty much good to go by now, so. There's hardly a reason for me to stick around."

"Where do you go, when you leave here?"

"Straight back to my shitty one-bedroom apartment, I suppose. Fixing idiotic bastards up down at headquarters. And Josh."

Kellin goes quiet. "Do you think I'll ever see you again?"

"Hopefully not," Oli says with a faint, bitter smile. "Not on my operating table, at least."

 

\+ + +

 

A few hours after the conversation on the couch, once the sun has risen over the field to paint the outside of the house golden, Oli slips his jacket back on and leaves.

"Peace, mate. Take care," is his last greeting before he pulls the front door shut behind him and Jaime.

Kellin's left standing on the front mat with one hand still partially-raised in an aborted wave. _It was nice to have someone different in the house to talk to_ , he resignedly thinks to himself, listening to the van pull away from the house and trundle back to the main road. (He doesn't think Austin and Alan really count, seeing as they spend every moment of their time together and therefore inevitably make him feel like a third wheel whenever he goes to check in.)

 _Oh well_.

Kellin pulls away from the door and pads into the kitchen to see if there's any pancake mix in a cupboard somewhere - it's still only seven o'clock in the morning, but he thinks he recalls Vic grumbling something about waking up early to set up arrangements for Alan and Austin.

As predicted, the aforementioned gang leader trudges into the kitchen five minutes later dressed in a warm-looking hoodie and shorts. His hair is rumpled, and he looks half-asleep.

"Hey," he yawns in Kellin's direction, "You're up early. Jaime and Oli left already, I take it?"

Kellin nods. "Yeah, just a few minutes ago. I'm making pancakes, if you want some?" he hopefully inquires.

"Please," Vic says, groaning as he stretches. "Smells fucking amazing, dude. I can't even remember the last time I had pancakes." He takes a seat at the counter and rests his chin in his hands, watching Kellin pour batter into the hot pan. "I heard you and Oli talking this morning," he says after a long moment. When Kellin turns to meet his gaze, his eyes are calculating.

"W-what about it?" Kellin asks. He didn't think he did anything wrong, but maybe--

"...Nothing," Vic shrugs, "Just sounded like you got a severe case of the bleeding nose. Do you need new sheets?"

"O-oh," Kellin falters. "Well, um. Yeah."

Vic nods once to himself. "Okay. We might have some spares in one of the upstairs rooms, otherwise I'll send someone out to pick them up when I go into the city tomorrow."

"You're going into the city?" Kellin asks, keeping his tone mild as he turns back to the pan to flip the three half-cooked pancakes. "I thought Jaime and the guys said they didn't want you to do that."

"They still don't," Vic grunts, "Never do. Ben wants to meet up in person to discuss the whole business with Danny, though, and I can't stay in self-imposed house arrest forever. Doesn't send a good message."

"Oh." Kellin cocks his head and asks, "Do you trust Ben?"

"Mostly? Yeah," Vic replies. "The Alexandria Family has been a big help to us in the past, as well as the other way around - so although he may be a cocky, egotistical fuck, I don't think he would risk that alliance by trying anything."

Kellin nods. "Makes sense." He checks the underside of one pancake, then decides to let it keep cooking for a few more minutes. "Do you know Danny?" he asks. "Like, _know_ know him."

"We've never been friends, if that's what you're asking," Vic snorts. "He's batshit. Honestly, completely and one-hundred-percent insane."

"But yet he's leading a gang?"

"But yet he's leading a gang," Vic agrees. He lets his hands fall to the countertop with a quiet _thunk_. "I've always thought Ben should have been the once getting that promotion in the first place, so it's... a relief, that Danny's no longer in charge. He's way too unpredictable to do steady business with."

"Business?" Kellin inquires, wrinkling his nose, "Like, do you sell drugs to each other?"

"Oh, no," Vic chuckles, "The Alexandria Family is more focused around arms dealing. They tend to be pretty fond of ransom and extortion on the side, too," he adds as an afterthought.

"A-ah." Kellin swallows, flipping the three pancakes onto a waiting plate; he slides it over to Vic with cutlery (and the highly-questionable-but-probably-expired syrup container he found at the very back of the cupboard). "Do, uh. Do you guys do any of that stuff?"

"Thanks," Vic say with a smile. "And no, no we don't. Not since I've been in power, at least - it's messy for every party involved, and too many people end up dead as a a result. Besides," he shrugs, "Meth is a pretty lucrative line of work to be in right now."

Kellin thinks it's probably pretty wrong for him to feel a slight rush of relief, then thinks back to Jaime's words from a week previous - _"We aren't good people."_ His voice echoes in Kellin's head as he carefully scoops two new circles of batter into the pan.

"These pancakes are seriously awesome," Vic enthusiastically praises him, "Job well done. You're officially my new favourite."

"Well. They say food is the way to a man's heart," Kellin offers, feeling his cheeks redden. He smiles to himself. "I'll make sure to save a few for the other guys when they wake up. Oh, and before I forget - do you know the date, by any chance?"

"Yeah, it's October eighth. Thursday. Why?" Vic asks, taking another bite of pancake.

"No reason," Kellin replies with a half-shrug. "I guess I was just thinking about how time flies, and all that."

There's a moment of silence between them. "Yeah, I guess it does," Vic finally says. "I'm going to go take care of a few things in my office, but, um. Feel free to knock if you need anything. Jaime shouldn't be gone for too much longer, either." He gives a slightly apologetic smile before ambling from the room, carrying the plate of pancakes with him.

Kellin turns back to prodding the pancakes with a puzzled frown. _That was... weird_ , he thinks confusedly.

True to Vic's word, Jaime arrives back at the house about a half hour later. "Woah," he says the second he steps in the door, "Holy shit. That smells _amazing_."

Kellin grins and waves at him from the kitchen, handing him a plate of pancakes as soon as he sits down. "Vic's in his office," Kellin reflexively informs him.

"Of course he is," Jaime mutters, rolling his eyes and reaching for the (questionable) syrup. "He's bent on meeting up with Ben face-to-face tomorrow, despite the fact that it's a completely terrible idea."

"Yeah, he told me about that. What makes you think it's a bad idea?" he asks nonchalantly, sliding the plate of cooked pancakes back into the oven to keep warm.

"I dunno. Maybe the fact that Ben happens to besties with the same psycho who murdered Shay?" Jaime says sarcastically. "Thanks for the pancakes, by the way."

"No problem," Kellin waves a dismissive hand. "Vic was just telling me he trusts Ben, though."

"Sure - I trust Ben," Jaime shrugs. "He's a complete asshole, but he manages to get shit done and keep his crew in check. Danny, on the other hand, does not."

"You guys all seem to really dislike this Danny guy, huh?" Kellin asks lightly, resting one hip against the counter. "Is he really all that bad?"

"Fuck yes, he is," Jaime confirms with a chuckle, vehemently sawing off a slice of pancake. "He's a complete lunatic - think Johnny Depp as the Mad Hatter, okay? And then add cocaine, prostitution and a small army of devoted followers."

Kellin huffs out a breath of laughter. "Okay, yeah, I can imagine that. I see why you might have a problem with it."

"Keeping Vic safe has always, is always, and will always be our number one priority," Jaime sighs. "I'm just trying to do my job, but it seems he enjoys making it very difficult at times."

"He said something about staying in the house not sending the 'right message'," Kellin contemplates, "Does that have something to do with it?"

Jaime chews and swallows, then nods. "Yeah - he's kinda right about that part. Sure as hell doesn't mean I have to be happy about it, though. We've been going through leaders like Girl Scout cookies on a middle aged mom's cheat day these past three years, and I'll be damned if Vic's next."

"W-well," Kellin stutters slightly. He clears his throat and then tries again - "Maybe you could try to see it from his perspective, you know? What you would be doing if you were leader right now. I dunno."

Jaime nods, laughing. "Good point," he grudgingly admits. "You're a fantastic sounding board, you know that?"

 

+

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks so much for hanging around!  
> my AO3 inbox is Broken As Hell rn so i keep having to remind myself to manually check to see if anybody has left comments, but I have seen them and they do continually make my day! :)  
> ** **ALSO** : do you guys want me to add in ATL or BVB in the next chapter?? bc i'll totally leave the decision up to you as long as you let me know what you want


	9. third eye

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack and Alex are certified idiots who don't know when to shut up, Ben likes to swear, Vic is short but also kind of badass-y, Mike is a bad mechanic and Kellin gets a self-promotion from 'nurse' to 'chef' (then proceeds to ingratiate himself via food).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm baAACK!  
> i just got hit with an idea for future plot yesterday so now i feel freshly invested and motivated to finally post this chapter  
> enjoy! :)

+

"Fuck you!"

"Fuck your _mom!_ "

"My mom's dead and you know it, asshole!"

"If you two don't shut the fuck up, she won't be the only one," Ben growls. "Fucking hell." He sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose in irritation, twisting to look over at one of the two blank-faced bodyguards standing behind him - "Why the fuck are they even here?" he demands rhetorically, then, turning back around and waving a hand, "You know what, forget it. The two of you better hurry up and shut your fucking mouths before I get Merrick to remove you."

The two men standing in the corner of the warehouse quickly stifle their giggles. "Maybe you should get Merrick to remove that stick from your ass," the darker-haired one quietly mutters to his companion.

"Oi! I heard that, you fucking crackhead piece of shit!" Ben hollers. He frowns and turns to the other bodyguard - "Fuentes should already be here by now, shouldn't he? What time s'it?"

"Four-thirty two, sir," the man promptly replies, swiping a hand over his closely-shaven brown hair.

"'Four-thirty two, _sir_ '," the lighter-haired man mimicks in the background, followed by a muffled laugh.

"I swear to god, Gaskarth, I will shoot you myself!" Ben yells. He takes a deep breath. "Merrick, get Fuentes on the phone," he finally snaps. "If he doesn't show in ten, we bounce. And Dawson - get those fucking junkies out of here before I kill one. Take them out the back door."

The taller of the two bodyguards pulls out a burner phone and hits 'dial' before holding it up to his ear, watching apprehensively as the other man strides over to the two huddled together in the corner.

"Jesus, Alex. Are you _trying_ to get yourself killed?" he growls under his breath. 

The brown-haired man simply shrugs and grins, twisting his shoulders from side to side. "I'm bored," he whines, smile abruptly slipping into a pout. "Rian, I wanna go hooome--"

"Stop talking," Dawson - Rian - hisses. He grabs the two of them by the sleeves of their ratty sweaters, glancing over his shoulder at Ben's disapproving expression before ignoring their protests and dragging them over to a door across the warehouse floor. He opens in and shoves them outside. "I'll just be a sec, sir," he tells Ben before stepping out after them. 

"What the fuck was that about?!" Rian thunders once the door has closed behind him, "Why can't the two of you ever just shut up for one minute?!"

"We wanna go home," Alex mournfully repeats. His narrow shoulders are slumped inside of their multiple layers of hoodies.

"Ben's a jerk," his companion mutters under his breath. "At least when Danny was leader he took us to parties and--"

"And what?" Rian cuts him off, laughing sharply in disbelief. "And then what, Jack? Gave you drugs? Got you addicted? Lured you away from your families? Fucked up your entire lives and then left you to start up his own gang?"

"At least he wasn't mean," Jack sullenly replies after a long moment. He rubs his nose with the filthy sleeve of his hoodie; it comes away bloody, but he gives no indication of caring. "Ben's mean."

Rian clenches his jaw. "I've had enough of you two today, alright? I've fucking had enough. Zack and I gave up _everything_ we had to keep you safe, and this is the king of thanks we get?" he growls, jabbing Jack in the solar plexus and sending his gaunt frame stumbling backwards. "Mouthing off to the man who can crush you in his fucking palm because you're high?"

Jack stares dully down at the pavement, his left arm twitching idly by his side.

"We wanna go home," Alex repeats.

"Fuck you," Rian spits. "Stay here, okay? Just. Stay put. Fuentes'll be here any minute, he'll meet with Ben, they'll talk things over and then we can all get the hell out of here." He impatiently turns on his heel and walks back inside, nodding to Ben and Zack. "It's taken care of," he says curtly. "Is Fuentes still planning on showing?"

"Yeah. Sorry bastard says he's pulling into the parking lot now," Ben grunts. "I fucking hate it when people are late. Merrick - go pull up the far left bay door."

"Yessir."

Rian steps forward, reassuming his stance behind Ben as Zack tugs down on the chain that raises the folding metal door. A rectangle of late-afternoon sunlight fall into the room in its wake. Beyond the bay door, Rian can make out a nondescript black SUV and three men disembarking - a tall one with stubble and a big, broad one, followed by a short, tan guy with long brown hair.

Ben raises one arm in a casual greeting. The diminutive man wastes no time in walking into the warehouse and stepping forward to courteously shake his hand, but the two other men casually linger behind at enough of a distance that Rian isn't too on edge.

"It's been a while," the short guy says evenly.

"Yeah, I s'pose," Ben replies. "We've 'ad our fair share of drama since then, eh? Got m'self a promotion."

The short guy - Fuentes, Rian is assuming from what he's heard - gives an airy, superficial chuckle. "Yeah, you have," he agrees. "I still don't particularly appreciate being kept out of the loop about recent events, though. A little heads up that you're the one running things would have sufficed."

Ben almost visibly tenses at his words - "Didn't want to raise false alarms, mate," he finally says. "Thought Danny would sort 'imself out, you know? It was all in best interests."

"I'm sure," Fuentes gives an amicable nod, "I'm sure. Unfortunately, now you're the one I'm holding responsible for a kid getting shot up and putting one of my men six feet under." Ben looks like he wants to say something, but before he can open his mouth, Fuentes claps his hands together and says, "So, let's get straight down to business - Danny needs to go."

Ben's head snaps up. " _Go_ , go? Or just go?"

"I'll leave that in your hands for now," Fuentes says calmly, his tone still as neutral as if they're discussing the weather. "He's still your problem. But I need him to back off and stay away from my crew. Otherwise, well," he shrugs, "I can't exactly guarantee what will happen to him. Or the Family."

Rian's never seen his boss look so uneasy before. He immediately decides he doesn't like it.

"Fine, fine. Just gimme some time," Ben eventually frowns, shifting his weight in a way that's almost skittish. "I'll talk with 'im, yeah? Get the point across?"

"You'd better," Fuentes raises one eyebrow. "I like you, Ben, but if push comes to shove..." he trails off.

"Yeah, a'right, I get it," Ben bristles, "I said I'll find 'im and I will. We'll talk, okay? I'll sort this out. You have my word."

Fuentes nods, apparently satisfied. "Thanks, man. Don't let me down," he warns with a grin, stepping forward into a brief, businesslike hug before backing off and walking out the bay door with his two men in tow. "Keep your dogs on a tighter leash next time," he calls.

The three of them get back into the parked SUV, and Ben irritably motions for Zack to lower the sliding door. "Fucking arrogant cunt," he hisses under his breath, "making us come all the way out here so he can show up late and get his fix of telling me what to do for two fucking minutes. Fuck him and his crew. I swear to God, I'm going to throw a fucking party when someone puts a bullet in his pretty little face."

Rian keeps his gaze locked down at a particularly boring patch of ground a few feet in front of him; he doesn't need to look up to know Zack is doing the same.

"Okay, well, show's over," Ben announces with a dramatic arm gesture. His voice echoes slightly in the empty building. "Merrick - go fetch your junkies and let's get the fuck out of here."

"Yessir," Zack replies, making his way across the concrete floor to the back door. He shoulders it open and then pauses - "Dawson, you put them out here, right?"

Rian's gut plummets. "They're not there?" he asks with alarmed eyes, attempting to keep his voice quiet. Zack slowly and grimly shakes his head no.

 _Fuck_.

"They finally wandered off, eh?" Ben asks. When Rian turns to look, his facial expression appears faintly amused. "Good. One less - make that two less - shitheads to worry about." Without further ado, he spins on his heel and starts to walk away. "C'mon, chop chop. I'm hungry. Don't give me puppy eyes, you can come back and look for 'em on your own time."

 

\+ + +

 

"Have I ever told you that you're my favourite?"

Kellin laughs, scooping garlic bread off of the hot baking tray and into a bowl. "You might have mentioned it a few times in the past hour," he grins. "Vic and Mike should be coming inside soon, right?"

"Probably," Jaime shrugs, eyeing the pot of pasta sauce on the stove. "I know jack shit about replacing car parts, though. Let's just go with the old saying 'if not, more for me'."

Kellin swats his bicep with the very damaged pasta spoon he found in a bottom drawer that afternoon. "Rude," he mock-chastises. "Can you go call Tony and Alan and Austin, then? We'll just have to start without them."

Jaime cheerfully whistles as he slips out of the kitchen, leaving Kellin to carry the pots of noodles and sauce over to the table. He sets them down on top of the makeshift hot-pots (metal cooking racks) before returning for the garlic bread and the Parmesan cheese he asked Mike picked up especially for tonight's meal - Alan and Austin's going-away dinner. Things have been tense around the house for the past few days since Vic's meeting with Ben, but he hopes a good sit-down meal might help temporarily lighten the mood and clear the air.

Kellin surveys the table with a critical eye before declaring everything set to perfection; plates, cups, utensils, salt, pepper, food... He's pretty confident he's positively outdone himself on this one. A few moments later, Jaime slides into the kitchen with Alan, Austin and Tony following right behind him.

"Dude, this is _sick_ ," Austin grins, leaning over to give him a high-five. "Thanks, man."

"No problem," Kellin happily replies, "It's the least I can do for you two. Now, everyone, go take a seat!" On second thought, he adds, "And for god's sakes, please don't eat it all before Mike and Vic get here!"

He can't help but to smile as he watches everyone serve themselves; he gets the feeling that while he may not be able to contribute around the house much, he still has the power of decent cooking on his side. "Should I go out to the garage and let them know supper's on?" he eventually asks Jaime.

"If you want to, yeah," Jaime shrugs, "Go ahead. This is fucking _amazing_ , by the way."

The others quickly chime in with enthusiastic praise. Kellin feels a blush rise to his cheeks as he leaves the room - "I'll be right back!" he calls. 

He doesn't bother with a jacket, instead just quickly slipping on his ratty shoes and stepping out the front door; he bounds down the stairs and lands on the lawn before plodding around the dark side of the house to the garage in the back yard, hearing faint voices from within.

"Christ, Mike, I think know what I'm doing! Stop being such a whiny bitch."

"I'm telling you, you have to loosen it up more first, man. You're going to break the fucking car."

"Yeah, well. I should've just asked Tony to come help me. At least he knows which side of the carburetor is the top."

"Fuck you!"

"Fuck you too!"

"Um, guys?" Kellin timidly asks, lightly knocking on the open door, "It's. Uh. It's supper, in case you guys wanted to come have some before Jaime eats it all."

Vic straightens up from being hunched over under the hood of the car. His hands are covered in dark smears of grease, with a few adorning his cheeks and forehead (as well as his tighter-than-normal shirt and jeans). His hair is tied back into what looks like a cross between a ponytail and a bun, and, well. It's... a surprisingly good look. He turns to a grumpy-looking Mike, who is leaning with crossed arms against a sawhorse piled with various tools - "Let's just finish this later, okay?"

Mike rolls his eyes. "Yeah, alright. But only 'cause I'm really fucking hungry. You're still a dumbfuck."

The three of them exit the garage with Vic wiping his dirty hands off on an even dirtier rag, the two brothers mercilessly firing jabs back and forth as they walk up the path to the front steps.

Kellin stops and frowns, lingering on the dark front porch for a brief moment as the door opens, emanating voices and spilling golden light over his feet--

"Yo, Kells? You coming?" Mike asks, holding the door open with a quizzical frown.

Kellin mentally shakes himself. "Yeah, yeah. Sorry."

For a second, he thought he saw something walking up the driveway in the distance.

 

\+ + +

 

"Well, I'd say that was a pretty massive success," Vic grins, stacking another plate onto the pile beside the sink.

"It was, wasn't it?" Kellin can't help but to grin as he reaches for more utensils to dunk into the hot, soapy water currently filling the sink. "And don't even worry about it, I'll deal with these last few dishes. Go hang with the guys."

"You sure?" Vic asks, "I seriously don't mind helping."

"And I seriously don't mind doing dishes," Kellin smiles, dismissing him with a wave of one soapy fork. " _Go_ ," he urges, "There aren't even that many left. I'm good here."

"If you're sure," Vic doubtfully replies. "Just call if you want help."

He finally slips from the room, allowing Kellin to ponder the evening's events in peace. The food turned out great, everyone seemed to be in an amicable mood... and best of all, for the first time in four days, no one had anything to say about Vic's meeting with Ben. 

All in all, Kellin will consider tonight a tremendous victory. He's actually thinking he might approach Vic to ask if he can cook dinner for everyone more often (and for some kind of recipe book. He's been dying to make cornbread, but can't remember the proportions of ingredients for the life of him).

Along with the soundtrack of talking and laughter from the living room, washing the dishes quickly becomes meditative.

"--and then he just turned around and fucking stabbed me!" someone - Jaime? - is saying, followed by uproarious laughter. "God, I really don't miss being a dealer," he reminisces. "No offence, but I seriously don't envy you, Alan."

Kellin smiles to himself as he scrubs a plate. _Yeah. Tonight was definitely a success._

 

\+ + +

 

"Are you sure this is the right house?"

"Shut up, asshole. Of course it is."

"So what do we do now?"

Alex looks over at Jack in the darkness, faintly registering the way the golden light from the house window reflects on his glassy eyes. His eyebrows pull into a frown under the brim of his tugged-down beanie. "I... I didn't think that far," he admits. "Knock, I guess."

"But it's dark out. They're probably, like, eating. Or sleeping, or something."

"So?"

"So, we don't want to disturb them," Jack says, as if it's obvious. "We should wait 'til the morning. 'Cause it's polite." His shoulder jerks a little bit, causing his arm to flop limply against his side.

"But it's cold out," Alex whines in reply, "and I'm tired. I hate walking."

"This whole thing was _your_ idea, fuckface! I told you it was a dumb plan. This Fuentes guy'll probably just, like, shoot us, or something."

Alex's frown deepens. "Jackass," he retorts. "And no, he won't shoot us. Well. Maybe he will, I dunno. But he's kind of our last hope, man. Zack and Rian deserve better than this." He pauses for a beat. "Besides, I never want to go back to Danny or the Family."

The two stand slumped in silence for a moment, then Jack sniffs ands shivers. "So are we just gonna sit here and wait 'til morning, or what?"

"Um..." Alex hums, slowly twisting around. "No. Oh, there!" his face lights up, "That shed thingy, c'mon. We can find a place to sleep in there and then go knock in the morning."

The two men shuffle their way over to the unlocked garage. "If we get shot tomorrow, it's all your fault," Jack grumbles.

"Yeah?" Alex giggles, cheerfully leaning in to blow a raspberry against his grimy cheek. "What're you gonna do about it, haunt me?"

 

 

+

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YO @ blacklaceslytherin ....... this probably wasn't really what you told me you wanted?? but i hope you can forgive me. (it's gonna be important to the story line, i promise) :))  
> as always, kudos are fab and comments are the Bomb Dot Com!
> 
> *also. fun fact - i envisioned vic's cameo backup dudes as josh and tino, in case anyone actually cared


	10. sweet feet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kellin fucks things up.  
> Alternately, Kellin uses food as an apology, Vic has dorky glasses and everyone talks about their feelings.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter is like. basically just fluff??? but it's going to be important later on, if you catch my drift  
> also i know really need to change the work summary on this one but idk what to change it to. ill get around to it eventually.  
> enjoy! :)

+

"H'lo?" Kellin mumbles as he twists the handle and tugs the front door open. He's still vaguely sleepy, dressed in plain grey pyjama pants and the shirt he slipped into bed in late after last night's dinner.

Jaime and Mike both left the house about fifteen minutes ago to take Alan and Austin ...well, wherever it is they're taking Alan and Austin, so it's just him awake upstairs. He had just been in the process of debating between making eggs or eating cereal when the unexpected but familiar two-tone chime startled him out of his thoughts.

To his surprise, he suddenly finds himself standing face-to-face with two homeless-looking men standing on the front porch - "Hi," the one on the right chirpily greets him, droopy brown eyes crinkling up into a cheerful smile under his lanky black hair. Kellin can't help but to instantly compare him to a dog of some sort - a border collie, maybe? "I'm Jack," the guy continues, "and this is is Alex." The guy on the left gives an unfocused waves and mumbles hello. "We need to talk to someone in Pierce the Veil. I haven't seen you before, are you new?"

"Um," Kellin frowns as his mind struggles to catch up. _Strangers. Want to talk to someone in Pierce the Veil._

_Rang the doorbell of the safe house out in the middle of nowhere._

_Oh._

"Oh," Kellin says dumbly. "Oh, um. Oh. Wait here," he blurts, practically slamming the front door in their faces before rushing down the hall. "Vic? Tony?" he yells, clumsily clambering down the ladder in the closet, "Guys, there are people at the door!"

The door to Tony and Mike's room flies open with a bang and Tony stumbles out, already tucking a handgun into the waistband of his pyjama pants. His eyes are alert. "How many?" he immediately demands, fixing Kellin with an intense stare, "Did they say why they're here? Are they wearing suits? What did you tell them?"

"N-nothing," Kellin stammers, holding his hands up as if in surrender. "I swear, I didn't tell them anything. There are two, not wearing suits, and I think the guy said their names are Jack and Alex? Th-they said they needs to talk to someone in Pierce the Veil."

He quickly moves out of the way as Tony brushes past and starts to climb the ladder at lightning speed. "Go into Vic's room and wake him up right away, then tell him exactly what you told me," Tony calls down he climbs up and out of sight. "And stay quiet in the basement unless he tells you otherwise," he adds.

"R-right," Kellin mumbles to himself, "Okay." _Okay. Important job. You can do this._ He rushes over to the door of Vic's room, hand hovering in decidedly over the door handle for a heartbeat before he grabs it and twists. "Uh, Vic?" he calls into the relative darkness, then, louder, "Vic, wake up!"

There's a groan from the direction of the bed. "Kellin?" a bleary voice inquires, followed by the rustling sound of blankets and an urgent "Wait... Kellin? What's wrong? What happened?"

"Um. Th-there are people here," Kellin stutters out. "Tony went upstairs already, he told me to tell you-- he said--"

Within a split second, there are two warm hands on each of his shoulders and Vic is gazing slightly upwards into his eyes. "I need you to focus, okay?" he says, his tone intensely authoritative. Kellin nods. "Now, what did Tony say?"

Kellin takes a deep breath. "He said-- He said to tell you there are two guys on the porch, they're not wearing suits and they didn't say why they were here but they want to talk to someone in Pierce the Veil. Their names are Jack and Alex and I-- I didn't tell them anything, Vic, I didn't say anything--"

"Deep breaths, okay?" Vic reassures him, "Deep breaths. It's fine, Tony's handling it right now. It's probably nothing to worry about. I'm going to go see what's up, alright?" Kellin quickly nods for a second time. "Good. Stay in the basement until I tell you it's okay to come upstairs," Vic instructs, then slips past him out of the bedroom.

Kellin backs out of the doorway to Vic's room and stands alone in the centre of the basement, forcing himself to inhale deeply and hold his breath before exhaling. _In, hold. Out. In, hold. Out._

A few moments later, there's a faint thumping sound from upstairs, followed by a yelp and an irate shout. Kellin flinches despite himself. " _"Who sent you?!_ " Vic yells, " _Who else knows you're here?!_ "

 _"No one, I swear to god, we were just hanging around outside the warehouse and we followed you back here--"_ comes the whimpered reply. " _Ben's mean, we don't want to go back, we just need--_ "

Kellin forces himself to tune out. His fingertips are shaking lightly when he looks down at them.

There comes another, quieter thump, this time closer to above where Kellin's currently standing. Anxious curiosity gnaws in his gut; with a shock, he finds himself thinking back to the security camera feeds on the monitor in Jaime's room - a minute later, he finds himself crouched in front of said computer screen, eyes riveted to the scene unfolding in the middle right panel. 

"Oh, shit," he whispers to himself. "Oh, fuck."

The two raggedly-dressed men are down on their knees in the kitchen - right where Kellin had been standing around debating between Cheerios and eggs five minutes ago, fuck - while Tony stands menacingly behind them, gun out and clearly ready to be used. The darker-haired man with the border collie eyes appears to be crying, but the lighter-haired man is saying something; his lips are moving quickly, eyes lit with an urgent spark. There doesn't have to be sound for Kellin to know that he's begging for his life.

"Oh, fuck," he repeats, because _am I about to watch someone getting their brains blown out?_

Somehow, he thinks this is a little bit different than what he's seen on TV. He can't bring himself to tear his eyes away.

On-screen, Tony's gun arm shifts abruptly, causing the lighter-haired one to flinch forward and his companion to silently cry out. Kellin thinks he might be sick.  
" _Who knows you're here?_ " Vic suddenly yells from upstairs, voice muffled by the floorboards. 

Something inside Kellin's chest tightens and quivers in fear. _Don't shoot, don't shoot, don't shoot,_ he mentally pleads, _oh, god, please, please, please don't shoot--_

Tony's arm raises marginally, and then Kellin finds himself scrambling out of the room and up the ladder before he's fully aware what he's doing. He clumsily shoves the closet door open from the inside and practically falls into the hall in his haste to get to the kitchen - "Don't!" he gasps, rounding the corner. "Fuck, please, don't shoot them!"

Vic's head snaps over to him. "I told you to stay in the fucking basement," he snaps, "Get out."

His eyes are furious, shoulders rising into an aggressive stance; it takes all of Kellin's strength to resist wilting under the heat of his stony glare. He clenches his fists at his sides and steels his nerves - "N-no," he shakes his head, "Don't do this. They haven't done anything yet, you don't have to shoot them!"

"Yeah?" Vic snarls, "Who died and put you in charge, huh? What the fuck do you think you know about anything?"

"P-please," Kellin frustratedly begs. "Just let them go, I'm sure they didn't mean to--"

"He's right, we didn't--" one of the men pathetically chimes in.

All of a sudden, Vic's expression turns frighteningly calm. "Tony, get these two out of my sight," he says quietly, "I think I have to have a word with Kellin."

The two men on the floor scramble to their feet and allow Tony to herd them out of the kitchen at gunpoint. The collie-eyed man shoots Kellin a brief, tear-streaked smile before being ushered out. "Thanks for trying, man," the brown-haired one - Alex - whispers as he passes.

Kellin's gut churns. "Vic--" he starts, only to be interrupted.

"I have a job, Kellin," Vic cuts him off. "And you know what that job is? I'll give you a hint - it's to _run a fucking gang_."

Mutely, Kellin nods. "I-I just--"

"Shut up and listen," Vic fiercely instructs. "My job is to run a gang," he continues. "That means I pay people to make drugs, I pay people to sell drugs, and then people pay me to get drugs and I make money. You follow?" Again, Kellin nods. "I have a responsibility to keep my crew safe - and now I also have a responsibility to keep _you_ safe. And it's a hell of a lot harder to do those things when people who aren't supposed to know my location find out where I am, not to mention having you getting underfoot."

"But that man, Jack, it sounded like he said they were with Ben's gang and you said you trusted Ben--"

"And that doesn't mean shit," Vic impatiently rolls his eyes. "Look at them - they're junkies! There's no way Ben would actually consider them useful, so they must be leftover strays that Danny picked up back when he was leading - hence, they may still have ties to Danny," Vic impatiently explains as if talking to a young child. "And it's very, _very_ important that Danny doesn't find out where I am. Do you understand?"

"Y-yeah," Kellin mumbles. "Please just don't kill them, though. Please."

Vic sighs and rolls his shoulders. "I can't let them go," he says simply. "Not that they know we're here, they're too much of a risk. I can't trust them to hold their mud."

"But there has to be be another way!" Kellin heatedly insists, "Can't you, like, I don't know, put them under witness protection or something?"

Vic gives a sarcastic snort - "Oh, yeah. Because I just love wasting valuable manpower on babysitting useless crackheads for an indefinite period of time."

"Doesn't it mean anything to you that they're innocent?" Kellin spits, practically shaking with disgust.

Vic narrows his eyes. "It's guilty until proven innocent, not the other way around. You'd do well to remember that."

"What if you had used that policy on me, huh?" Kellin quickly challenges him, "What if Mike had immediately assumed I was guilty of something back when he first saw me?"

Vic rolls his eyes for the second time. "Fuck you. Just go back downstairs and leave the adults to take care of business, okay?"

"Not until you promise you won't shoot them," Kellin defiantly shakes his head. He crosses his arms; he's trying his best to keep a calm exterior, but his heart is hammering a mile a minute inside his chest.

"Are you _stupid?_ " Vic asks, eyebrows raising in rhetorical disbelief, "Or are you just being stubborn for no reason? Because you seem to be forgetting who's in charge here."

Kellin glares and says, "I know you're the boss. I just happen to have a moral compass that doesn't approve of shooting people who haven't done anything wrong."

"Fuck you," Vic repeats. There's a beat of silence between them before he continues. "You're such a yappy little kid, you know that? You wouldn't last a fucking day in Pierce the Veil. I'd have you scrapped within a week."

"Good thing I'm not a member, then," Kelli shrugs one shoulder in a faux-blasé manner. "Promise me you're not going to kill them."

It's Vic's turn to cross his arms. "And what if I don't?" he asks, cocking his head, "What if I tell Tony to shoot 'em both right now?"

Kellin levels his gaze. "I'll try to run away. Or kill myself, if that doesn't work," he says, careful to keep his voice steady. "I'm pretty sure you wouldn't want that."

Vic looks unflinchingly back at him for a long minute, then closes his eyes and rubs a hand over his face. He looks up at the ceiling for a moment, then over at something outside the window. "No, I don't want that," he eventually admits. "Even if it would solve half of all my problems," he adds under his breath.

Kellin considers him for a thoughtful moment. "So, that's settled, then?" he queries, "You promise you won't kill them?"

"Fine, fine," Vic grumbles, "Have it your way. I promise I won't kill them." He flashes Kellin the middle finger. "You and I are going to have to have a talk about this later, though, and for now, I'm ordering you to go sit in your room until I tell you to come back upstairs. Consider it a time-out."

Kellin nods once and sheepishly lowers his gaze to the tile floor. "Yessir. And, um. Thank you."

Vic gives a heavy sigh, one side of his mouth quirking up into a humourless smile. "Hurry up and get the fuck out of here before I change my mind."

Kellin doesn't need to be told twice.

 

\+ + +

 

When Jaime wordlessly knocks on his door - an hour or two of half-hearted reading later - there don't appear to be any signs or sounds that the two strange men had ever even been in the house at all. Kellin doesn't want to aggravate Vic any further by asking him what happened to them, though, so for now he simply consoles himself with the knowledge that wherever they are, they're still alive.

Kellin finds himself stalling to stay in the basement for as long as he can. He's... wary, to go upstairs and face Vic or Tony after his (admittedly slightly petulant) outburst from earlier; he still thinks he was in the right on this one, but that doesn't change the fact that Vic is probably pissed as hell. 

_Oops._

When Kellin finally wracks up enough nerve to climb upstairs, Vic's office door is closed and ere's no one else in sight. He feels relieved, but also wrong-footed, like as if he's sneaking around in some way; it's strangely reminiscent to the way he used to feel the morning after a big argument with his mom.

Kellin pushes his unease to the back of his mind, tucking a lock of hair behind his ear and padding into the kitchen. He quietly sets about setting out sugar, butter, flour, cocoa, vanilla and a few other ingredients - because while cooking might be the only thing he's good at around this house, he's also the only one good at cooking around this house.

An hour later, the finished product of his efforts is a pan of possibly slightly-undercooked brownies topped with chocolate icing, accompanied by the rich, sugary scent of fresh baking in the air.

Kellin carves a thick slice of brownie and sets it on a plate. On second thought, he turns to rifle through one of the cupboards before triumphantly pulling out an almost-empty bag of M&M's. He carefully cuts them in two and arranges the rainbow halves on the top - ' _SORRY_ ', it reads.

Another minute later, he sets the plate down on the floor with a quiet clink outside the office door. He knocks three times and walks back to the kitchen, listening for the sound of the door opening, a pause, and then the door closing again. The plate is gone once he peeks back around the corner.

_Apology accepted, then?_

 

\+ + +

 

"Hey, uh, Kells?"

Kellin sits up on his bed at the sound of Tony's voice, immediately snapping his book closed and setting it aside. "Yes. Hi. What's up?"

Tony shrugs from the doorway. "I dunno, I just... Can we, um, talk? Just for a sec? It won't take long, I promise."

"Yeah, no, it's fine," Kellin assures him with a nervous smile, "Come on in. I was just about to go to bed, so..." he trails off.

"Cool," Tony nods. He awkwardly edges inside the room and takes a seat on the edge of the single, rigid chair in the corner of the room. "I, um, it's about this morning," he says.

"I know," Kellin meekly replies. "You guys are probably pretty mad at me, right?"

Tony shrugs again, crossing his legs and looking down at his feet. "Well. I'm not," he carefully answers, "Not really. I mean, any day I don't shoot someone is a good day, " he says with a weak chuckle followed by a sigh. "Vic might be a bit angry, but I think that has more to do with you disrespecting his orders or whatever."

"Oh." Kellin bites his lower lip and avoids Tony's eyes. He absently worries a fold in his sheets between his thumb and forefinger, then asks, "Do you, um. Do you think I did the right thing today? To go up there and interrupt things the way I did?"

Tony leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "Truthfully? I don't know. Like I said - any day I don't shoot someone is a good day. But keeping those guys alive could cause some serious trouble for us." He rubs his eyes before continuing. "I really thought Vic was about to order me to kill those guys when you barged in, so... I dunno. I guess maybe I should be thanking you, too. You were pretty brave to be able to stand your ground like that."

Kellin huffs a laugh. "Yeah, right. Whatever you say."

"No, I'm serious!" Tony insists, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth, "Vic can be pretty scary sometimes." He leans back in the chair with a thoughtful hum. "Oh, yeah - I think you can figure this one out on your own, but Vic doesn't want you to answer the door again unless you're told. So. Just come get one of us, if that ever happens again."

A faint blush rises to Kellin's cheeks. "Yeah, I got that," he embarrassedly responds.

Tony considers him a second longer, then slaps his hands on his thighs and gets to his feet. "Well, that's all I had to say," he smiles, awkwardly edging back to the doorway. "Goodnight."

"G'night," Kellin softly echoes as his door clicks shut once again. He flops back onto his bed with a resigned sigh, praying for the umpteenth time that maybe, just maybe he hasn't completely fucked everything up.

 

\+ + +

 

The next morning is... oddly tense.

Kellin assumes Vic must have explained the entire situation to everyone, based on the way Jaime is avoiding eye contact and the faintly irritated looks he keeps receiving from Mike. Tony simply scarfs down a bowl of cereal as fast as humanly possible before muttering something about _"sending Gabe to run a circuit up in San Marcos"_ and excusing himself.

The kitchen table into an awkward silence between the four of them. Kellin determinedly focuses on eating his Cheerios and ignoring Mike.

"So," Jaime eventually coughs, breaking the silence, "Um. Everything's going really well for us in Mira Mesa."

"Good," Vic nods. He hums. "If our shit keeps selling like it is now, we might have to consider permanently increasing product flow."

"What about my sector?" Mike mutters with a grumpy frown.

Vic's eyebrows raise a fraction of an inch when he frostily replies, "I guess we're just going to have to wait and see about your sector."

Mike abruptly rises from the table, snatching his bowl and dropping it in the sink. "'M gonna go see if Tone needs anything done," he mutters, then ambles from the room. Vic and Jaime exchange a look before turning back to their cereal.

"So," Jaime starts, finally meeting Kellin's eyes. "I'm going to do a run into the city tonight to check up on how Austin and Alan are fitting in with my guys, in case you want me to pick up anything in particular?"

"Well, um. Some kind of recipe book might be nice?" Kellin shyly hints. "You guys might be running low on cocoa powder, too, I think."

Jaime nods. "Alright. Just make me a list and I'll grab it on the way home."

"And, um. Maybe you could take Austin and Alan some of those brownies I made yesterday," Kellin hopefully suggests.

Vic gives a quiet snort. "You're such a stereotype," he laughs.

"Shut the fuck up," Jaime chastises him, leaning over to smack his shoulder, "That was rude. And yes, Kellin, I will take your brownies. Thanks."

Kellin smiles awkwardly. "Uh, okay," he nods, hunching his shoulders as he looks down at his bowl. He absently stirs his spoon around in the few last soggy remains of what used to be his Cheerios. Eventually, Jaime gets up and wanders off, leaving only he and Vic seated at the table.

"We're, uh. We're cool, right?" Vic asks after a while.

Kellin looks over at him. "What do you mean?" he frowns suspiciously.

"I dunno," Vic shrugs. He sighs. "I just-- Yesterday." He pauses. "I, um. I don't want you to get the idea that I'm some fucking freak who gets off on murdering people, or something. I let myself get angry at you again, and... I'm not that guy. That's not _me_."

Kellin smiles faintly. "No, I get what you mean. And... I don't think of you like that," he says, then takes a shaky breath. "I, uh. I-I think I'm the one who should be apologizing in this situation."

"No," Vic shakes his head, his eyebrows pulling together, "No, you shouldn't be. You, um. You did the right thing. It was pretty brave," he admits - "Stupid, but brave. And it's my fault for freaking out like that instead of staying calm and thinking the whole thing through," he finishes. "So... yeah. Tony said I should say I'm sorry if I, uh. Scared you."

Kellin looks down at his lap. "It's fine - _I'm_ fine," he reassures Vic with a small smile. "And I'm sorry for disobeying your orders and stuff. I know your first priority is everyone's safety, and, well. I was being kind of an idiot."

"So, we're good?" Vic grins.

Kellin nods. "Yeah, we're good."

 

\+ + +

 

The rest of the afternoon passes by in a much less awkward fashion; Kellin amuses himself by reading ( _Wuthering Heights_ ) and watching a few of the movies lying around ( _500 Days of Summer_ , anyone?).

Vic calls another gang meeting at around 5:00 to which Kellin is pointedly not invited - it only lasts a half hour, but he sulks the whole time.

A while later, after the sun has set and the open plains surrounding the house have grown dark, Jaime emerges and announces his departure - "Don't forget the brownies," Kellin reminds him, handing over a shopping list along with a styrofoam container that he previously repurposed from Indian takeout in the fridge. "And don't you dare eat any on the way over, either," he narrows his eyes.

Jaime laughs. "We'll see," he winks. "Be back in a bit!"

"Bye," Vic intones from the couch. He's got a clipboard balanced on his lap, a pen in hand and he's wearing glasses; the big, nerdy square kind that cling onto the bridge of his nose, reflecting soft, golden lamplight as he frowns down at the page and marks something down.

Kellin sits down on the opposite end of the couch. "Whatcha doing?" he casually inquires.

"Calculations," Vic grunts. He runs a hand through his hair, tucking his pen behind one ear. Looking up with a yawn, he clearly sees the question in Kellin's eyes - "I'm measuring the initial weights of each batch of meth when they left the lab, comparing them to the weights of after they were divided and sent off to separate locations, calculating how much money we made off of each interaction and then calculating how much money came back to HQ for the month of September," he explains.

"Sounds riveting," Kellin offers dryly. "Don't you have people who can do that for you?"

Vic pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose. He looks so relaxed and so completely, effortlessly dorky that it's making something in Kellin's stomach flop around at high speed.

"I do, but I always like to personally check the list after," Vic shrugs, "Just to make sure everything adds up at the end of the month."

"...And to find out if someone's trying to steal from you?" Kellin finishes.

"Yep," Vic answers, popping the 'P'. He flips a page on the clipboard and grabs the pen from behind his ear, stabs a few buttons on the calculator in his lap and scribbles something down.

"Does that happen often?" Kellin asks curiously. "Someone stealing, I mean."

"Not really," Vic answers. He idly taps the back of his pen against the page. "Well. Not to my knowledge, at least. We had a lady try to pull something back in the first month I started, but I had it taken care of in... a very public manner." His mouth curls into a dark smile. "No one's tried it since."

"O-oh," Kellin stutters. "Well, that's. Definitely not even a little bit terrifying."

Behind his glasses, Vic's eyes crinkle up on the sides when he grins. "I didn't mean that I, like, flogged her in the square or anything," he laughs, "Just roughed her up a little - she got a demotion, too. I was still new enough that I had to be careful about overstepping my boundaries and all of those formalities, so it wasn't as if I could have done anything more severe. People didn't really like me too much."

Kellin hums and cocks his head. "Can I ask why not?"

Vic waves a dismissive hand. "For starters, everyone thought I was way too young and reckless and all that bullshit. Some people thought I only got the position 'cause I sucked up to the old man before me. So... The usual story, basically."

"Um, that was... Hoppy, right?" Kellin tries to recall. "I think Oli mentioned him the other day."

"Yeah, that's him," Vic exhales heavily. "He was a pretty terrible leader, but. Still didn't deserve to die the way he did."

Kellin remains mute, allowing a slightly somber silence to fall between them. Vic sniffs and pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose.

"Well, I guess I should hurry up and get this done," he finally announces, rather cheerfully pulling a face and limply raising the clipboard.

Kellin takes that as his cue to say goodnight and leave the room. He climbs back downstairs and quickly runs through ablutions, strips his clothing off down to his underwear and climbs straight into bed - he can't even be bothered to muster the effort necessary to change into pyjamas right now.

For the first time in days, Kellin falls into sleep almost as soon as his head hits the pillow. His dreams are full of dorky glasses and warm, glowing lamplight.

 

+

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> kudos are always super appreciated, and by all means, please let me know what you thought about this chapter!  
> (likes? dislikes? anything i can improve??) :D


	11. lullaby

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kellin does a lot of thinking (then does a bit _too_ much thinking), Vic finally gets his turn to be the mother hen, amicable banter ensues and then everything really hits the metaphorical fan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> we're really starting to climbing the hill of the rollercoaster here, guys.  
> enjoy! :)

+

Over the mostly-uneventful course of the next month or so, Kellin starts spending more and more of his time in the kitchen; without school or homework or chores, he finds it's not like there's very much else for him to be doing. He's settled into a routine of making dinner every few nights as well as breakfast on Mondays, Wednesdays and Saturdays, and, whenever Austin occasionally drops by, Kellin always makes sure he ends up leaving with a container of lasagna each time. He finds he's usually always happiest in the kitchen or outside.

The abundance of free time also means he gets to know everyone in the house a lot better, too - he plays lots of video games with Mike and Tony, watches movies with Jaime and goes on walks with Vic on a near-daily basis. Before he knows it, the date is November seventeenth and he's completely missed both Halloween and Veteran's Day (which he immediately feels guilty about, and then proceeds to take ten minutes of silence for). It's a strange feeling to have time slip by so quickly.

"Did you know it's been more than almost two months since I've been here?" he mentions to Jaime later that afternoon in the kitchen.

"Really?" Jaime looks up from the paper he's writing on and crinkles his nose. He shrugs, then frowns - "Huh. Sure doesn't feel like it. That's really weird, actually."

Kellin is inclined to agree. "Well. I'm gonna go ask Vic to go on a walk with me," he announces, slapping his hand on the counter, "I'll see you in a bit."

"See you," Jaime absently replies. "Oh, wait - can you tell Vic I'm going to promote Flint to co-distributor tomorrow? I think he'll take the news better from you than from me."

Kellin snorts, raising one eyebrow. "What's that supposed to mean?" he amusedly asks; Jaime simply shrugs. Kellin laughs and rolls his eyes - "Fine, fine, I'll tell him. You owe me, though."

Jaime looks up. "What do you want? Porn? More dildos? Or was it a leg-waxing kit?"

Kellin giggles. "Something," he mysteriously replies, "I haven't decided yet." He sticks out his tongue and backs out of the room, ignoring Jaime's call of "A _pube_ waxing kit?" in favour of bounding up the stairs to the spare bedroom door at the end of the landing.

He knocks twice and pushes it open. Vic's lying sprawled out on his back on top of the bare mattress with his head dangling down over the side, holding a book above his face. "Oh, hey," he greets Kellin, "What's up?"

"Just wanted to know if you wanted to go for a walk?" Kellin hopefully inquires. 

Vic nods with a grin and sets the book down on the bed. "Yeah, sure."

Kellin waits until they're both dressed in warm coats and sixty feet from the house to casually tell Vic, "So, Jaime's planning on giving Flint a promotion tomorrow."

Vic frowns over at him. "Did he tell you to tell me that?"

"Yeah," Kellin replies with a small smile, "He pretty much said you wouldn't be too happy about it. Why is that? Do you not like this Flint guy, or something?"

"Nah," Vic shakes his head, "He's a good guy. I really like him, actually." He pauses. "But... he's also just a good guy, you know? I mean, he's twenty-two, attractive, and smart as fuck - he definitely doesn't belong with the rest of us. I think he honestly only joined up 'cause he's friends with Josh," Vic sighs. He looks down at the ground, then scans the horizon. "I had kinda been keeping my hopes up that he'd come to his senses and ask me to leave, but... I think once he gets that promotion it's going to both open and close a ton of doors for him," he admits with a sad smile. He shoots a quick glance over at Kellin - "Don't you think that's a dumb thing for someone like me to say?"

Kellin considers it, then shakes his head. "Nah. I mean, I think this whole situation is kinda messed up, but. I also think you're a good guy for trying to look out for him." He goes quiet for a moment, then adds, "I think you're pretty much as good of a guy as you can be, for someone like you."

Vic stops walking. When Kellin turns to look at him, his eyebrows are slightly furrowed, dark eyes unreadable. "Can I ask what makes you think I'm a good person?" he finally asks, curiosity in his tone as he shifts closer. "After everything you know I do, I mean. How is it that you can still say shit like that?"

Kellin shrugs and cocks one hip, toeing at the grass and dirt. "I dunno. You're just--... I dunno." He takes a deep breath, exhaling slowly before speaking again. "I guess the bottom line for me is that sometimes, good people do bad things. Like. For instance, just 'cause someone might be the CEO of some big non-profit thing doesn't automatically make them a fantastic person," Kellin shrugs for a second time. "So. I guess just 'cause you're leading a gang doesn't make you evil, either," he trails off, playing with the sleeve of his jacket for a long moment. When he finally looks up, Vic is still staring at him with that strange expression.

"You really see the best in people, don't you?" he eventually asks.

Kellin smiles faintly down at his ratty shoe. "Yeah, it's kind of a weakness of mine."

The two of them remain there in silence, standing close for a minute or two longer before Vic finally steps back and breaks the spell. "I'm going to go back to the house," he quietly announces, voice a little bit rough. "I trust you not to try and run away, okay? Just, um. Come back whenever you're done out here."

Kellin silently nods, watching the gentle slope of his shoulders as he trods back the way they just came. He lets out a breath and starts walking the opposite direction.

 

\+ + +

 

"Hey," Jaime cautiously greets Vic as he enters the house, "Where's Kell?"

"Still out walking," Vic waves a dismissive hand as he unzips his jacket and tosses it aside. "He told me you're going to go ahead and promote Flint tomorrow."

Jaime meets his eyes. "Yeah. I, um. I am," he says softly. He pauses, then starts again - "Look, Vic, I know you don't--"

Vic cuts him off with a single shake of his head. "'S fine, Himes. I know that it's the right decision and I trust your judgement."

"Oh." Jaime watches him toe off his shoes, leaning one shoulder sideways against the living room wall. "If it's any consolation, I really think he's the only guy for the job," he offers. "Lynn's just not ready for that kind of pressure yet, and I don't know if Max will ever be."

"I get it," Vic replies in monotone. "I just really fucking hate it." Before Jaime can tell him anything more, he sighs heavily and says, "I'm gonna go get shit done in the office for a while, okay? Don't bother me unless it's important. I just-- I need some time to myself."

Jaime nods and squares his shoulders. "Of course."

Vic shoots him a small, grateful smile as he brushes past into the hallway. "Wait," Jaime calls after him. "Vic, I'm sorry. I know you were trying to hold out on him."

Vic pauses with his hand on the doorknob of the office and shakes his head, but he doesn't turn around. "It's fine, Himes," he finally replies, his voice even. "It had to happen sometime."

Jaime watches him disappear around the corner, guilt twisting like molten iron in his chest.

 

\+ + +

 

After Vic leaves, Kellin keeps walking.

He slowly walks in a straight line away from the house until his feet are sore, and then he stops, turns sideways and keeps on walking.

He walks, and he walks, and he thinks and then he thinks some more. He thinks about Jack, and then he thinks about Jack and Alex, and then he thinks about his parents back home. He wonders if they still miss him, or if they've already gotten used to his absence.

Or if maybe they're just happier without him.

It's getting colder out, but not enough so to drive him back indoors. At some point, he vaguely registers that the sky is turning dark far above him; without nearby buildings and light pollution, the stars are clearly visible. They look like thousands upon thousands of tiny, floating, pin-sized holes in the fabric of a worn black cape.

No one comes out looking for him. He can't make up his mind if he wants someone to.

Eventually, Kellin turns and wanders back in the direction that leads back to the house. He can see it in the distance with bright, floating squares of yellow light for windows, and suddenly, Kellin feels more at peace than he has in the past two months.

 

_Home._

 

\+ + +

 

"Hey," Jaime quietly greets Kellin from his position the front porch step. "I was starting to wonder if you were going to come back."

His tone is light, though, and Kellin responds with a snort of disbelief. "Yeah, right. Like I actually have anywhere else to go."

He takes a seat next to Jaime on the cold wood, allowing the silence to settle in the space between them for a few torturously long minutes. It's bordering on unusual for Jaime; in all the time Kellin's known him, he's always been talking, constantly trying to fill up the empty gaps in the conversation. To see someone normally so animated be so reserved, well. It lights a tiny spark of worry in the back of his mind.

"So what's up?" he finally asks with a concerned expression, leaning back on his elbows.

Jaime gives a tense sigh. "It's just Vic, I guess." When Kellin doesn't say anything else, he eventually continues - "I feel bad for promoting Flint. And I don't know if you've noticed it, but Vic's been acting... different, lately," he explains.

"How so?" Kellin prompts him.

Jaime pauses and looks down at his feet. "He's being really fixated on playing it safe and not getting involved with Danny, which isn't like him at all - he's been making this whole thing feel like some kind of waiting game. He's been stressed out over every little thing since October, and I just.. I have no idea what to do about it," Jaime shrugs helplessly. "I don't even know if there's anything I _can_ do."

Kellin hums in understanding. "Have you tried talking to him about it?"

"Yeah. Whenever I do, he just says everything is fine and then tells me to do another check-in on Alan and Austin," Jaime grumbles. "They always feed me lasagna and then we end up talking about _Die Hard_."

Kellin bites his lip to stop a sheepish smile from escaping. He carefully considers his next response. "D'you think I might have something to do with it?" he inquires after a pause. "I mean, just 'cause the timing coincides, and..." he trails off

Jaime looks down and shifts his feet. "I dunno," he finally answers. "Maybe, I guess."

From the low tone of his voice, it's easy for Kellin to deduce that he means 'yes'. He sighs a little. "Well, in that case, I'm sorry," he apologizes. He shifts a little. "I feel like I just keep on fucking things up around here," he eventually admits. "Like with those two guys at the door last month, and stuff."

"You still thinking about that?" Jaime frowns. When Kellin nods, he firmly shakes his head. "Don't. Don't do that to yourself, okay? Take it from me: it's best to try and put that kind of shit out of your mind. Otherwise, it'll just eat you up inside."

Kellin nods again, this time down at his feet. "I guess you're right."

"Of course I am," Jaime shoots back, giving him a smile that's still a tiny bit less joyful then it should be. He rises to his feet - "I'm going to head in to go shower and stuff, but you're okay to stay out here or whatever," he gives a vague gesture with his arm. He pauses before leaving. "It was nice talking to you, dude," he adds. "Sometimes it really helps to say these things out loud to someone, you know?"

"Yeah," Kellin softly replies, "I know. I'll probably head in in just a minute."

He closes his eyes as he hears the front door swinging shut behind him. He already feels a bit emotionally drained from all the thinking he's been doing tonight, but he still can't quite let this one go.

Not yet.

When he crawls into bed that night, the usually-calming darkness of the room suddenly just seems suffocating; it takes Kellin nearly an hour before his eyes finally slip shut and he drifts off into sleep.

 

\+ + +

 

_He's running again (always running), his breath coming in desperate, ragged puffs. There are branches whipping and clawing at his calves as he sprints barefoot over the snowy forest ground. It's dim, but when he glances up through the spidery tree branches, the sky beyond them is coloured blood red._

_Kellin slowly stumbles to a stop. He bends over, clutching at his chest as his burning lungs struggle for air._

_Somewhere in the distance, a branch crackles. Kellin's head snaps up, looking in vain for the source of the sound as gooseflesh floods down his arms - "Hello?" he calls breathlessly, his voice weak and raspy, "Who's there?"_

_There's no reply. A faint rumble starts from behind him and suddenly, the forest starts to go dark as it gains in decibels. Soon enough, he can't even see the trees around him._

_Kellin blindly gropes for something to hold onto as the ground shudders violently beneath his feet, but to no avail; the trees, along with the snow, seem to have all disappeared, leaving him untethered as the earth shakes beneath him._

_"Help!" he chokes out, the quaking causing him to tumble forward onto his hands and knees, "Somebody help me!"_

_Just as suddenly as it began, the rumbling stops._

_Kellin desperately feels around in the darkness. He's now completely naked, kneeling on some kind of hard, glassy surface that's silky beneath his wandering fingertips. He helplessly tries to call out again, only to find that no noise comes out; when he smacks the floor with the palm of his hand, he can't hear anything either._

_Kellin clumsy clambers to his feet. His equilibrium is off at first, and he almost falls back down again. Without any element of sight or sound whatsoever, he's left feeling utterly lost. He starts to shuffle his way forward, blindly reaching out with both arms, but there doesn't seem to be anything except empty, wide open space to be found._

_He silently screams out when the sole of his foot makes contact with something cold and wet. Upon crouching down for further investigation, the tips of his fingers meet--_

_Hair. It's matted, soaked in--_

__Oh, fuck _._

 _Kellin gags and stumbles backwards, trying to get as far away as humanly possible, the back of his clean hand coming up to cover his mouth as he clutches the other against the skin of his bare chest._ Oh god. Oh, fuck. __

_He twists onto his side to vomit, but his stomach is empty and he just dry heaves, his naked body wracked with soundless retches._

_After he's done, Kellin collapses onto the smooth surface of the floor. He lays there and shivers for what seems like an eternity before there's a sharp, buzzing crackle in the air and a_ snap _and suddenly, his vision is filled with blindingly bright white light._

_Kellin cries out a choked whimper and feebly curls in on himself. His hands fly up to cover his face and he stays like that for a long moment, trying to get used to the sound of his own unsteady breathing as his eyes adjust to the light._

_When he finally opens them, Kellin can't see anything; it's all white, including the ground. He feels as if he's floating in midair._

_Slowly, he rises to a standing position on shaking knees and looks around._

_There._

_Only a few feet and a few dark red footprints away, there's a body lying facedown._

_Kellin shrieks into the silence and covers his mouth. "N-no, no, no," he cries out, "F-fuck!" because he_ knows _that body, he knows that small frame and that tan skin and even matted with blood, he knows that long hair is brown underneath the red, knows it like the back of his hand and--_

_"Vic, Vic, Vic, please, no," he's mumbling, tripping forwards until he's reaching out, centimetres away from touching skin he knows will be cold underneath his palm. "F-fuck, Vic, no, please--"_

_The second his fingertips make contact Vic's body seems to dissolve like television static and fall away, leaving Kellin grasping at empty air and a puddle of blood. A bizarre thrumming hum begins to flood the atmosphere, growing and growing until Kellin feels like it's shaking his teeth, rattling inside of his bones and splitting him apart from the inside, peeling off his skin--_

"Kellin!"

_He's screaming in agony, covered in Vic's blood and writhing on the ground as the flesh of his shoulder starts to fall away to expose white bone. There are booming voices, now, too, echoing, bouncing around inside of his skull and--_

"What the fuck is happening to him?!"

"Kellin, wake up!"

_There's a pressure building up around him, pushing back on his shoulders and chest, holding tight around his wrists like cuffs where the skin is being stripped away--_

"Someone _do_ something! We have to wake him up!"

_Kellin's thrashing and thrashing, trying to escape the invisible bands holding him still when the hum suddenly intensifies, cutting his scream cut off with a sob and then he's starting to beg, his lips moving over a a mindless chant of "let me go, please, just let me die already, please stop--"_

_and then he's stiffening as he wak_ es up with tears streaming down his face, wildly looking around to find four familiar pairs of eyes looking back at him in the golden lamplight of the room - _his_ room, in the basement of the safe house - and. And.

"F-fuck," he stutters out, then scrambles out of his sweat-soaked sheets and runs from the room.

"You guys get back to bed, okay? I'll handle it," Vic instructs.

He exits the room and finds Kellin crouched over the toilet bowl in the bathroom ten seconds later, wide-eyed and trembling with a trail of spit down his chin.

"You okay?" he eventually asks.

Kellin sits back against the wall for a second before shaking his head, a ragged sob tearing itself from his throat.

Vic's at his side in a second with toilet paper. "Shh," he soothes, reaching out to flush the toilet before wiping the spit away. "Shh. It's fine, Kell. It was just a nightmare. You're safe now, okay?"

You're safe," he repeats, pulling Kellin into a hug by the shoulders.

"Y-you died," Kellin whimpers into his shoulder after a moment. "You _died_ , Vic, you were d-dead and your body was just lying there and your blood was all over me a-and-- and--"

"Deep breaths, Kellin. I'm fine now, okay? I'm alive," Vic reassures him. He grabs one of Kellin's wrists and presses his hand to his chest, right over the spot where he can feel his heart beating. "I'm alive, and you're okay. I'm here now."

"I'm s-sorry," Kellin mumbles, clutching onto the fabric of Vic's t-shirt. "I'm sorry I'm l-like this, I'm _sorry_ \--"

"Hey, shh," Vic gives a tiny shake of his head, "Don't say that, Kells. It's not your fault. It was just a bad dream, alright? Just a bad dream." Kellin trembles against him and Vic sighs, absently carding a hand through his hair the way Jaime used to do for him. "Try to relax, okay? Just relax. Deep breaths."

The two of them stay like that for maybe another twenty minutes before Kellin has calmed down enough to embarrassedly pull away, roughly wiping tears from his flushed cheeks and muttering apologies as he does so.

Vic simply shakes it off with a lighthearted smile like he would have wanted from Jaime, then makes sure Kellin drinks a glass of water and brushes his teeth before gently guiding him back to bed.

The other guys have already graciously changed the sheets, and Vic's just about to flick the lamp off to go back to his own room when a soft, vulnerable voice sounds from the direction of the pillows:

"Hey, Vic?" Kellin timidly asks, "C-can you stay here with me? Just for tonight?"

Vic's hand hovers over the lamp switch. "Yeah," he quietly responds, "I can."

 

\+ + +

 

The next morning, Vic wakes up with a warm body curled into his side.

Looking down, he catches sight of one pale arm haphazardly plastered across his ribcage, and the details of last night's events slowly start to drift back to him; he turns his head to the side to see Kellin's face tucked into his shoulder, the rest of his body curled up into an relaxed 'S' shape along the side of Vic's body. Their feet are intertwined.

Silently, Vic gives a tiny exhale and shuts his eyes, mentally giving himself permission to fall back asleep.

When he wakes up again, Kellin is gone.

 

\+ + +

 

 _Stupid_ , Kellin disgustedly chastises himself as he starts the preparations for breakfast. _No wonder Vic keeps treating you like a ten-year old, with the way you keep acting like some brain-damaged baby around him. Fuck._

It's actually closer to lunchtime right now, but, courtesy of his nightmare, everyone in the house is waking up late this morning. He lifts the knife in his hand and slices off a side of the red bell pepper sitting on the cutting board in front of him; it comes away with a satisfying crunch.

"Hey, Kellin?" Jaime asks from where he's sitting at the dining table on his laptop, "Can I ask what your nightmare was about last night?"

"Huh?" Kellin looks up from methodically dicing the pepper. "Oh, well. It was just like," he waves his unoccupied hand, "I was running in a dead forest, there was an earthquake, and then I in some room with a dead body," he shrugs it off.

"Oh," Jaime says after a moment. "Gimme a sec."

The _click-clack_ sound of typing fills the room. Across from him, Mike's brows shoot up - "That's, like. Pretty majorly fucked up, man," he remarks.

Kellin chuckles. "Yeah, I guess so. It doesn't seem as scary anymore, though."

"You were just lying there with your eyes open and screaming your head off," Mike keeps going. "It was kinda fucking terrifying just to watch you."

"Aha!" Jaime exclaims, cutting him off, "Here it is: _'To dream that you are in or walking through the forest signifies a transitional phase',_ " he quotes. " _'Follow your instincts'._ "

Mike bursts out into laughter. "Wait, what? Dude, what the fuck? What site are you on?"

Jaime smacks his arm away where he's trying to turn the computer around, protectively covering it and continuing to read: " _'To see bare trees in your dream indicate used up energy. You have put your all into something and now you are exhausted. Perhaps you are even feeling depressed. Alternatively, the dream signifies the cycle of life or the passage of time'._ "

Kellin cocks his hip and pauses slicing. "Woah," he frowns. "Okay, that's creepy. Seriously, where are you getting this from?"

Jaime merely holds up a finger, types something else in and keeps on reading. " _'To dream of an earthquake suggests that you are experiencing a major "shake-up" that is threatening your stability and foundation',_ " he continues. " _'The dream highlights your insecurity, fears and sense of helplessness. Is there something in your life that you feel at fault for?'_ " Jaime shoots him a meaningful look, and Kellin's frown deepens.

"Wait, seriously?" Mike glances between the two of them, "You're telling me this shit is actually accurate?"

Kellin ignores him in favour of asking, "What's the one for 'bodies'?"

Jaime's fingers fly over the keys once more, and he clears his throat before reading out, " _'To dream about dead bodies implies that you are feeling detached from those around you. It may also mean that you are feeling emotionally drained',_ " he pauses, "Same as the dead trees, right? Oh, wait - here's more: _'To see or find a bloody dead body in your dream refers to a situation or issue that you can no longer avoid. You need to make an important decision and act on it immediately'._ "

Kellin sets the knife down and blinks a few times. "Well that's... scary," he thoughtfully admits.

"No way. That spiritual shit is just a load of bullshit," Mike scoffs.

Jaime simply rolls his eyes and pushes the laptop over to him. "Fine, then. Look up something you remember from your last dream and read it out to us, if it's so inaccurate," he narrows his eyes.

"Fine," Mike shoots back. He starts typing and then pauses, eyes scanning the screen. He frowns.

"Now read it to us," Jaime goads him.

"Fine," Mike repeats, sticking out his tongue. "Okay, so. _'To see a wedding ring in your dream represents completeness and eternal love. If you are not married and find a wedding ring, then it means that your personal relationship has reached a new level',_ " he grumpily finishes.

"Seriously?" Jaime cackles. "Dude, that's amazing! Kellin, are you hearing this?"

"I'm totally hearing this," Kellin shakes his head with a smile, scraping the pepper cubes to the side of the cutting board and starting on a glove of garlic. Mike flips the laptop screen closed in apparent annoyance, then flips Jaime the bird for good measure.

"Admit that it was right," Jaime waggles his eyebrows.

Mike gives a grouchy exhale, "Okay, fine. It was right. So what?"

"So are you planning on asking Tony to marry you?" Kellin excitedly chimes in, his own dream forgotten.

"What! No," Mike immediately exclaims, turning to face him, then, "...Okay, so maybe I've been thinking about it a little bit."

Kellin giggles and claps his hands (like the good little stereotype he is)."Oh my god, that's so exciting. You should totally do it!"

"You two have been together forever, man," Jaime adds. "You know he's gonna say yes."

"Yeah, I know he would," Mike responds, looking cagily down at the table. "I brought it up a while ago and he says he's interested, but... I just don't know if it's what he actually wants," he carefully admits after a pause. "Like, maybe it's too sentimental or whatever."

"What? No," Jaime protests, giving some kind of sweeping arm gesture. "This is _Tony_ we're talking about, dude! Aside from Austin, he's the most white-picket-fence guy I know."

"I guess," Mike eventually grumbles. "I just don't want to fuck things up by trying to make it 'official', you know? We've come too far for that."

"So then don't try make it 'official'," Kellin happily points out, "Just elope, or something - that way no one even has to know you tied the knot except him."

"--and Vic, and me and Kellin," Jaime finishes with a grin. "But yeah! I say go for it, man!"

"Morning," a new voice quietly interjects, "What're you guys talking about?" The three of them whip around to look at Tony as he sleepily shuffle into the room.

"Nothing," Kellin rushes to reassure him, thinking quickly. "Just, um. Mike was thinking about talking to Vic about re-increasing product flow in his sector," he blurts.

"Huh," Tony raises an eyebrow. "Yeah, actually, I think you're right about that," he nods to Mike. "We've been doing really well in Mira Mesa, but Danny's had more than enough time to cool down, so. It would be a good idea to get things completely back on track."

 _'Nice save,'_ Jaime mouths behind Tony's back when he turns to pour a cup of coffee. Mike shoots him a thumbs up.

"So, is anyone doing anything actually valuable today?" Tony asks, taking a seat at the table beside Mike. "'Cause if not, I picked up the Star Wars trilogy from the library last week and I've been meaning to watch them again."

"Only so that you can be reunited with your fictional boyfriend, Han Solo," Jaime teases.

Tony looks just about to laugh a retort when Vic suddenly bursts into the kitchen, a flip phone in one raised hand and an expression in his eyes that could melt steel.

Everyone goes silent. From the phone, there comes a loud, tinny voice:

"Th-they found us, they found me and Lex and now they're coming--"

 

As the room descends into chaos around him, Kellin dimly thinks he should have known this was too good to last.

 

+

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> we're finally gearing up to go!!  
> i've been doing a lot of planning for this, and right now i'm currently looking at a total of between 3-4 more chapters (with the probability of a part two)... thoughts??  
> -  
> as per usual, kudos make my heart glow and comments feed my motivation! thanks so much for reading! :)


	12. halcyon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alternately titled _'Kellin and the Terrible, Horrible, Very Bad, No Good Day'_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FASTEN YOUR SEATBELTS, GUYS

+

Kellin's grip on the kitchen knife slackens, and it falls to the cutting board with a faint clatter as everybody starts talking all at once.

Their chaotic sound of their loud, urgent voices make him want to curl up into a ball - he doesn't have an inkling of what's happening, but he immediately knows it's serious.

" _Shut up!_ " Vic roars over the mayhem. Everyone in the room abruptly falls silent. "Jack, start talking."

"T-they found us-- they _found us_ , Vic, and then they took us and Ronnie fucking killed Matt, he shot Matt and then he said--" there's a hiccoughing sob from the other end of the line, followed by a terrified whimper - "He said he was going to kill Alex if I didn't tell them what they wanted to know, but then I bit him and ran away, and, and-- Vic, they still have him, they have my Alex and they're gonna _kill_ him, they're gonna--"

"Fuck!" Vic yells. "Jack, what the fuck did you tell him!?"

"Th-they wanted to know where you were," Jack blubbers, "I jus-- I just-- they have Alex, Vic, I'm sorry--"

Vic's expression is stony. "Are they coming for us right now?" he asks quickly.

"Y-yes but--"

"How many?"

"I think eight, o-or nine maybe. I'm sorry, Vic, I'm _sorry_ \--"

"How long ago did they leave?"

"M-maybe five minute ago? I heard them talking, they were t-talking about some serious firepower and I'm just, Vic, Alex can't die he _can't_ \--"

"Save it," Vic growls, "I'll deal with you later." He hangs up and throws the phone down on the kitchen table. "Mike, Tony - leave right fucking now. I want you gone in a minute thirty. Take the van, call everyone on your way and let them know it's going down. Jaime and I'll be right behind you in the SUV. We'll meet you two back at HQ," Vic orders. "Go!"

Tony immediately grabs the car keys and jogs from the room, but Mike pauses in the doorway for a split second longer; he locks eyes with Kellin and nods once, then turns and slips out of sight. _Good luck._

"Jaime, get the black file box out of the office," Vic instructs, "We're taking it with us. Just leave everything else." His expression is solemn, but calm - _the eye of the storm_ , Kellin thinks.

As Jaime moves off, Vic turns to him and places one hand on each shoulder, looking him squarely in the eye. "I need you to listen very carefully to what I have to say, okay? Can you do that?" Shakily, Kellin nods. "Good. There are some people on their way over to the house right now, alright? They're scary. And they have guns, and they aren't afraid of killing people."

Kellin feels on the verge of shocked tears, but Vic squeezes his shoulders - "Hey, hey, no. Don't cry. I know this is sudden, but we have a plan. You're gonna be just fine, you hear me? All I need for you to do is to go downstairs, go into the room with the metal door and then stay there. The code is 5240. That's all you have to do, alright? Just go in and stay there. The door can't be opened from the outside unless someone has the code."

Kellin holds in a sob. "C-can't I come with y--?"

"No," Vic shakes his head, his eyes earnest, "Just trust me, okay? This is the safest thing I can think of. We're going to be right back with more backup before you know it, and then we're going to take you over to headquarters. Alright?"

He gently cups the sides of Kellin's face with serious eyes and says, "You're going to be just fine, okay? All you have to do is stay in that room and don't open the door for anyone. When we're back, I'll knock on the door nine times, then three times, then twelve times so you know it's me. Okay? Can you do that for me?"

Kellin nods, feeling a tear start to slide down his cheek. "O-okay," he agrees, roughly wiping it away. "Okay."

"Just keep your head down, plug your ears and try to ignore whatever's happening outside. And whatever you do, don't open that door." Vic gently claps his shoulder, giving him a smile that doesn't meet his dark brown eyes - "See you on the flip side?"

Kellin squares his shoulders and nods again. His head is spinning, but he tries to put on the bravest face he can manage. "S-see you."

"Go," Vic urges, turning to leave, "We'll be right back for you."

Kellin comes to his senses and runs from the room, almost knocking Jaime over in his haste to get to the closet.

"Are you--?" Jaime stops himself, "Um, see you."

"See you," Kellin echoes. He steps down onto the ladder before sliding the closet door shut behind him, then climbing down further in order to pull the trapdoor shut above his head. He hastily climbs down the rest of the way and then races over to the metal door. It's quiet in the basement; a little too quiet.

Kellin types in _5240_ on the keypad with fingers trembling from adrenaline, listening for the loud click before warily pushing the heavy door open. Inside, he finds a concrete room, barren except for a rickety steel shelf and a cheap desk on the far side. The air is cold enough to make goosebumps rise on his skin.

Kellin looks around the basement one final time before stepping inside of the room and letting the door swing shut with a violent clang. He tugs on the string of the single, bare lightbulb, watching it slowly flicker to life. After a long, silent moment of listening to his own rapid breathing, he sits down on the hard floor and hugs his knees to his chest.

There's no clock inside the room, so it feels like it might be anywhere between five minutes and an hour before he finally hears a commotion from somewhere upstairs - a faint _thump_ and a _crash_ , followed by several sets of heavy, scuffling footsteps.

Kellin is scared out of his wits. But despite Vic's earlier words, he can't quite bring himself to plug his ears; _It's safe in here_ , he attempts to reassure himself. _Vic said the door can't be opened from the outside. They're coming back, and then everything's going be fine. It's all going to be okay._

A few minutes later, another faint thump reaches his ears and the scuffling seems to suddenly get a lot louder - "Look! There's a basement!" a male voice yells. The reply is muffled, and then the same voice calls back, "No! No fucking way! Get your fucking ass over here and go down there."

Kellin's heart rate picks up speed. He can't hear much of anything that's going on outside, but he's certain someone is on their way into the basement right this very moment. He clenches his teeth and tries to steady his breathing.

 _They're here! They're here! They're here!_ a little voice chants in the back of his mind, _they're here and now they're coming for you!_

A few moments later, Kellin's suspicions are confirmed; "Oh, shit," a new, buoyant voice states from right outside the door, "This setup is actually pretty fucking rad, man, hurry up!"

There are footsteps and then some more indistinguishable conversation. After a long moment of silence and completely without warning, something hits the door with a thump and a resounding screech that causes Kellin to cry out in shock in spite of himself.

Whoever's standing outside goes silent for a moment, and then a muffled voice says, "Hey, Ronnie? Uh, I think there might be someone in here."

 _Ronnie?_ Kellin thinks with dread; his heart starts pounding at a newly frantic pace. _Oh, god. Oh, fuck. He just killed someone less than an hour ago and now he's going to kill me too--_

"Shut the fuck up, Craig," a new voice drawls in reply, "You're just high."

"No, I'm telling you, I'm not this time!" the first voice - Craig? - protests. "I hit it with that table and I heard someone scream from inside, I swear!"

There's more silence, then the sound of footsteps, and then someone pounds on the door three times - "Helloooo?" the second man calls out in a sarcastic falsetto, "Is anybody hooome?"

The knob suddenly rattles, and Kellin has to bite down on his fingers to stop himself from whimpering out in fear. His shoulders shudder where they're propped up against the hard concrete - _Oh god. Oh, god._

There's a loud, obnoxious laugh from outside the door, then a shuffling sound. "Put that down, you fucking freak. Danny said just to take the useful shit."

"Not like there's actually that much of it," comes the faint, muttered reply. "This is a pretty awesome basement, though." There's a pause. "Hey, should we take that coffee maker over there?"

"What? No, idiot! Why the fuck would we take the coffee maker?"

The sound of the two men squabbling seems to fade away into white noise as Kellin shivers in a ball against the side of the room. He glances over at the door with wide eyes, trying to remind himself that _they can't get in, they can't get in, they can't get in. I'm safe here. Vic is on his way back right now to get me out, and then we're going back to headquarters and everything will be okay._ He tucks his head between his knees and tries to focus on his breathing.

Suddenly, a new voice joins the two in the basement, making Kellin's head snap back up so he can listen in better - "How're we doing, boys?" It's another man, loud and brash with a British accent. "Find anything?"

"Uh, no?" the one called Craig eventually responds.

"We've gone through all the rooms, but there's mainly just clothes and shit," Ronnie boredly extrapolates. "There was a gun in that one and that one" - there's a pause in which Kellin visualizes him pointing - "but they're not loaded, and there's no ammunition around here. Oh, and some kind of ancient computer in that one, but I don't think that's even worth breaking."

"I see," the new voice says. "What about that one on the end over there?"

"Locked," Kellin hears Ronnie grunt. His heart skips a beat, until he hears Ronnie continue with "I don't think we can open it from the outside. Doubt they keep anything good in there, anyways."

"I think there's someone inside," Craig excitedly chimes back in. "I hit the door and I heard someone shout, I know I-- _Ow!_ Don't elbow me! What the fuck was that for?"

"It was for 'shut the fuck up, retard'," Ronnie growls. "There's no one in there."

"Yeah?" the British man asks. "Well, I want it opened anyways." There's a long pause, and some more thumping from outside. 

"Fuck," the one called Craig finally whines from directly outside the door, loud enough for his voice to echo around inside the room. "Ronnie, how the fuck am I s'posed to open this thing?"

The doorknob rattles again, and Kellin tenses up; he can clearly see the shadows cast by a pair of feet under the crack of the door. Suddenly feeling very exposed, he shakily gets to his feet and starts inching his way over to the desk. He waits for the two men to start bickering again before picking the desk up and rotating it so that the side with the metal panel is facing the door, hoping that the sound of their voices will cover the sound.

No such luck. "Ronnie, you fucking liar! I just heard something moving in there!" Craig yells.

The response is too muffled for Kellin to properly make out. The knob rattles agains, more forcefully this time, then followed by pounding on the door. Kellin is quick to duck down and take shelter beneath the desk.

"Hello?" Craig calls, "C'mon, man, I totally heard you in there!" When Kellin doesn't reply, he ceases pounding. "Are you their prisoner or something?" he asks, "Are you a mute? Hello? Can you hear me?" There's a pause. "Tap once for yes and twice for no!"

"Give it the fuck up!" Ronnie shouts. "There's no one in there! Just tell Danny you tried your best to open it and let's fucking bounce."

"But Ronnie--"

"Shut the fuck up and start grabbing stuff so we can _go_ already! The Mexicans are probably already on their way back by now, and I'm seriously not in the mood to get my face blown off!"

There's a few moments of relative silence, and then Craig knocks again three times. "I'm not leaving until you answer," he says, "Just tell me if you can hear me."

Kellin squeezes his eyes shut, throat working as he musters up all of his courage. "Go away!" he yells as loudly as he can, despising the way his voice breaks at the end.

Everything falls deathly silent.

"Holy shit," Craig says from outside. "Ronnie, did you hear that?"

"Yeah, I heard it, fuckwad," Ronnie angrily mutters back. There are faint footsteps, and then three more knocks. "Hey, mister? Or lady?" Ronnie calls out, "What's your name?"

Kellin's body shakes with fear. "Go away!" he repeats.

"Uh. We can't yet, miss," Craig replies. "Hey, are you their prisoner?"

"N-no," Kellin forces out.

"Oh," he hears Craig say, then, in an undertone, "Well, what do we do now?"

"Don't ask me, I don't fucking know," Ronnie quietly snaps back. "I guess we should try to get her out of there. We were just supposed to open it to see what's inside."

Kellin clenches his teeth. "Th-there's nothing valuable in here," he calls out against his better judgement, "J-just an empty shelf and a desk."

"Can you let us in so we can see?" Craig hopefully inquires, followed by a smack. " _Ow!_ Fuck you!"

"Hurry up and go get Danny," Ronnie growls, and one set of feet move away from the door. "So you're not a prisoner, huh?" he continues after a moment, "What are you then, a girlfriend? Some kind of hoodrat?" 

Kellin doesn't reply.

"Well, 'whoever-you-are', it seems like the Mexicans left you here all by your lonesome, didn't they?" He sighs in false disappointment - "Well, that's just too bad for you. A real shame."

"L-Leave me alone," Kellin half-sobs out, "Just g-go away!"

"No can do, sweetheart," Ronnie drawls back; there's a faint thump and then a sliding sound, as if he's sitting down against the wall. "There's probably no chance you're just gonna peacefully open that door for me, is there?" he asks conversationally.

"N-no."

"Damn."

There's a long, tense silence, then another thump and some vague scuffling sounds before the British man's voice returns - "So they're keeping a girl down here, are they?"

"Seems like it," comes Ronnie's muttered reply. "Sh'says she's not a prisoner, though."

There are a few indistinguishable words interchanged, and then a pause in which Kellin watches a new set of feet appear under the crack of the door - "Hullo, madam?" the British man addresses him, "I'd just like to ask you a few quick questions, if that's alright with you."

"G-go away!" Kellin stutters, "I d-don't want to answer any of your s-s-stupid questions!"

"Are you a member of Pierce The Veil?"

"I said l-leave me alone!"

"Fine, then. How long have you been in this house for?"

Kellin doesn't answer.

"Okay, let's try this again. What's your favourite colour?" Outside the door, Ronnie hisses something confused, only to be shushed.

"B-blue," Kellin shocks himself by responding, "I-I think my favourite colour is b-blue."

By this point, he's stopped shaking and is simply starting to feel strangely numb to his surroundings. _This isn't real. None of it is real. It can't be! I was just cooking breakfast an hour ago, and--_

"That's a very nice colour," the British man cheerfully replies, interrupting his thoughts. "Can you tell me your name, sweetheart?"

"K-Kellin."

"And would you mind telling me how old you are, Kellin?"

"I'm s-seventeen."

"Oh, that's a fine age." There's another pause - longer, this time. "Do you know who we are, Kellin?"

"Y-you're-- You're Danny's gang."

"Smart girl," comes a brief, amused chuckle. "Though we actually call ourselves Harlot, if you must know."

Kellin clenches his fists. "I d-don't want to talk to you anymore," he finally sobs out, "Please just l-leave me alone."

"Sir, I don't think she's going to open it," Ronnie impatiently mutters. "I think we need to get going before--"

"Before what?" the British man cheerfully cuts him off. "Before I fire your ass and then finally give Craig permission to shoot you?"

"No. No sir. I just think--"

"--that you'd be better off staying on my good side, yeah?" the first man finishes. "Hurry up and get the fuck out of my sight before I do something drastic."

"Yessir," Ronnie quickly replies, followed by footsteps and then more silence. The way Kellin's fingernails are biting into his palms feels like the only thing keeping him grounded to the room.

"Sorry you had to hear that, love," the man outside eventually continues. "Oh, right - the name's Danny, by the way."

"Oh," Kellin softly replies, the word coming out more like a startled cough. _Holy shit._

"So, Kellin, can you tell me how long you've been in the house for?"

"Two m-months." There's another pause, followed by a very soft clinking sound and then--

"Wait a minute," Danny laughs from outside the door, "You're from North Dakota, aren't you?"

Kellin's nails dig in even deeper, but he doesn't reply. _How does he--?_

"Oh, I think I know exactly who you are," Danny smugly continues. "You were all over the news a little while ago, y'know that? Real pretty. Anyways, I didn't pay much attention. But now," he pauses to utter another silky laugh, "Jackpot! Just wait 'til I tell my dirtycops about this one - they'll have themselves a right field day with finally having enough evidence to shut down Cali's most prolific meth gang."

Kellin swears his stomach flips upside down inside his body. "N-no," he hoarsely whispers out, "N-no, wait, you can't do that! You can't--"

"Can't what, darling?" Danny smoothly replies. "For, you see, I'm on this side of the door and you're still on that side. Not much you can do about it. Actually, tell you what - I think I'm gonna go ahead and give 'em a call right now. Sooner than later and all that, you know? I'm sure they'll be very anxious to talk to bring you in to the station."

"No, p-please!" Kellin shouts, uncurling his legs from under the desk, "Don't call them! Please d-don't call them, this is a-all my fault!" His voice breaks a little bit on the last word. "I'll do-- I'll do anything, please--"

"Anything?" Danny muses.

"A-anything," Kellin desperately repeats, squeezing his eyes shut and feeling wetness on his lashes. _Fuck, fuck, fuck--_

"How about you start by opening that door, kid?"

Kellin rubs his eyes and ignores the wild, terrified thumping of his heart. _You got yourself into this,_ he detachedly thinks as he crawls out from under the desk. _This is all your fault._ He stands up and leans back against the concrete wall for support, eyes riveted to the feet at the bottom of the door. _You got yourself into this, and now you've gotten Vic and the rest of the gang involved and--_

"You hear me in there?"

"Y-yeah," Kellin shakily replies, sniffing and wiping a tear off his cheek. "I-I just. Gimme a-a sec." He takes a deep breath and steps away from the wall, drifting towards the door and reaching for the handle in what feels like an out-of-body experience. He pauses with his fingertips hovering over it. "P-promise you won't call them if I-I open the door," he demands.

Danny sighs. "Sure, sweetheart. Promise."

Kellin exhales slowly, closing his eyes as his hand descends upon the cold metal; from upstairs, there comes another terrible wave of crashing and loud voices.

 _It's up to you to fix this,_ he reminds himself, then tightens his grip and turns the handle.

 

\+ + +

 

The second he starts to pull the door open, a combat-boot-clad foot wedges itself into the crack and shoves it open the rest of the way - he doesn't even have time to yelp in surprise before a broad hand closes around his forearm and yanks him out into the basement. Kellin catches a glimpse of ruddy hair and a wild-looking beard as he reflexively tries to pull away from the man, but despite his struggles, Danny's grip on his arm remains firm.

"Hello, darling," the man casually greets him. "My, aren't you a precious little thing?" he remarks. "'S no wonder Fuentes decided to keep you around."

Kellin feels a pathetic whimper crawling up his throat as he futilely tries to claw at Danny's hand. "P-please let me g-go!"

"What?" Danny wrinkles his nose, laughing a little bit, "No. Oh, no. You're far too valuable for that, sweetheart."

As Kellin is dragged over to the ladder, stumbling over his feet, his thoughts are a jumbled mess of _oh god no this isn't real this can't be happening this isn't real fuck this isn't real this isn't real this isn't real this can't be real--_

"Start climbing," Danny orders. "I'll shoot you in the ass if you even think about trying anything." Numbly, Kellin does; he's far too shocked to even think about running when he reaches the top and steps out into the hall.

"Watch it," someone grumbles, roughly shoving past him on their way into the kitchen.

"S-s-sorry," Kellin stammers out and then Danny's standing behind him again, grabbing him by the back of his shirt and pressing forward.

"What to do with you now, eh?" the latter rhetorically asks. "Oi, Jacky! Come get _Kellin_ and take him out to the van, would you?"

One of the passing men - Jacky? - turns and approaches with a very put-upon expression, his eyes weary and tired-looking tired beneath his shaggy mop of dark hair. "Sure," he sighs as he grabs Kellin by the shoulder. "How long until we get out of here? These guys are gonna be coming b--"

"We'll leave when I fucking say so," Danny snaps. "Just do your job, okay?" he adds, tone suddenly brightening.

Jacky looks a little off-balance at his sudden mood change, but nods once nonetheless and starts directing Kellin forwards with a hand between his shoulders. "Fucking crazy asshole," he mutters under his breath. He starts to say something more, but is cut off by a violent crash and a loud _bang_ that rings in Kellin's ears.

" _Fuck!_ " Jacky yells, terrified, "Fuck! Get down!"

Kellin immediately drops to the hallway floor, watching with wide eyes as several of the men around him fall into practiced crouches. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Jacky pulling a gun from his waistband - "Stay put," he growls down at Kellin. He exchanges a brief nod with one of the guys in the kitchen, then, gun first, begins inching forward to the mouth of the hallway. The whole house seems to be holding its breath.

Jacky barely has a chance to round the corner when there's another deafening bang - _fireworks_ , Kellin thinks - and he jerks like a marionette, suspended in midair for a split second before limply falling to the hardwood in a crumpled heap. The wall behind where he had been standing is speckled in a fine red mist.

Kellin screams.

Around him, everything descends into pandemonium; the air is torn apart by booming crackles, men shouting and the house being torn apart, but Kellin still can't take his eyes off of Jacky's motionless form or the growing puddle seeping outwards from it.

Suddenly, he's being hauled up into to his knees and roughly shoved towards the kitchen.

"N-no!" he sobs out in protest, vainly scrabbling at the floor for purchase. He's only a few inches away from being pushed out into the open.

"Shut it, kid!" Danny roars over the chaos around them. He kicks Kellin in the ribs, violently sending him flying into the wall across from the hallway opening.

Kellin's head makes contact with the edge of the hard surface and he sees sparks. He falls to the floor among the rubble, panting as his head spins and his vision fades in and out of blackness. Something loud whizzes over his head.

When Kellin comes to his senses a few minutes later, the side of his head is throbbing and his nose is gushing hot blood; disoriented, he frantically tries to crawl his way to cover, only to collapse halfway over to the overturned couch as his head pulses angrily and his eyesight momentarily blacks out.

When he finally blinks back into awareness, Kellin dazedly reaches up to tentatively assess the wound with trembling fingers; in horror, he finds it slick and red, soaking his hair as it slides down the side of his face and neck. _Fuck--_

There are three more consecutive _bangs_ and then more frantic shouting. He simply quivers against the cold ground, not daring to look up even when he hears hurried footsteps. The thought crosses Kellin's mind that his head is going to implode from all the noise when suddenly, his neck is snapping backwards as he's grabbed by the collar and roughly hoisted to his feet in front of the broken living room window.

Everything goes silent.

"Don't fucking move!" someone bellows right next to his ear. It sounds muffled and faraway, but vaguely familiar - _Ronnie?_ "Don't fucking move, or else I'll blow his fucking head off!"

There's a click right next to his temple, followed by the touch cold metal, and it dimly occurs to Kellin that the man must be talking about him.

He swallows nervously. Through his hair and the blood coating half his face, he can vaguely make out the blurry shapes of several people standing outside - "V-Vic?" he finally manages to choke out, "Vic, what--"

"Shut the fuck up!" the man holding him up snarls. One of the blurry figures starts to step forward with hands raised, but Ronnie twists the gun into Kellin's temple and the figure stops in its tracks.

"What do you want?" the blurry person calmly asks in Vic's voice. Kellin's throat works to call out to him, but his head throbs again and he simply gasps before he can say anything. His legs finally give out and his head sways limply to the side; the man with the gun is the only thing keeping him from hitting the ground. 

"What's wrong with him?" Vic demands, his tone low and threatening. "Radke, what the fuck did you do to him?"

"I want you to get me the fuck out of here," Ronnie calls back, ignoring his question. "You're going to drop your guns, walk away, stand over by that tree and let me go or else the twink dies!" he yells, "Got it?!"

"Radke--" Vic starts.

" _Got it?!_ " Ronnie loudly repeats, cutting him off. "Hurry up and drop your fucking guns in a pile and then _walk the fuck away!_ "

There's a tense, stretching silence, and then the Vic-person makes some kind of gesture and there are several faint clinking sounds. Kellin's eyes are glazed and half-closed; he can barely make out anything going on around him except for the crystal-clear feeling of Ronnie's arm wrapped around his chest like a steel band, the gun pressed against his head and an immense pain radiating from the side of his head.

"Good," Ronnie finally drawls, his voice grating and loud in Kellin's traumatized eardrums. "Stay there and don't move a fucking inch or else the kid's brains are gonna be your new wallpaper!" 

With that, he slips an arm beneath each of Kellin's arms and commences dragging his limp body in the direction of where the front door is hanging off of its hinges, keeping the barrel of the gun firmly shoved into the soft skin beneath Kellin's jaw.

The sun is blinding when they finally make it out of the house, making his head pound and his stomach churn as Ronnie roughly strong-arms him down the stairs. His breathing is coming out as a weak rasp by the time they finally reach the side of the black SUV and Ronnie opens the passenger side door, shoving him in as he yells, "If you even think about following me, I'll fucking kill him!"

Kellin's eyes slowly start to slip closed as his vision tinges grey around the edges. When he cracks them open again, they're at the end of the driveway, the house blurry and distant compared to how Ronnie's gun is pointed directly into his face. "Sorry, kid," Kellin thinks he hears him grunt. He thinks he feels the van begin to slow down a bit, and then Ronnie leans over to pop the passenger door open before roughly pushing him out.

Aside from the way all the air seems to suddenly disappear from his lungs, Kellin's abused body barely registers hitting the ground. He simply lays in the dust and wheezes for a moment, breath shakily rattling in and out as he watches the van growing smaller and smaller.

 

+

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> danny ended up being in this for like three whole paragraphs???fml  
> kudos rock and comments rock even more, so feel free to leave both below! :)  
> **also: there are only gonna be 1-2 more chapters after this, so would anyone actually be interested if i were to do a pt.2? (or would that just be a pointless waste of time??)


	13. trophy eyes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Oli is a Supportive Friend™ and a ferocious mama bear.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> holy shit, guys! only one more (short) chapter after this and then we're done??  
> -  
> enjoy! :D

+

After that, everything becomes a blur.

Kellin can vaguely recall someone picking him up firefighter-style and being laid down on a soft surface, the feeling of tires over a gravel road, muffled voices and a gentle hand carding through his hair and then not much else. He only has vague snippets of a cold, dim room and bright lights followed by harsh buzzing - after that, everything is too murky to discern.

When he finally wakes up again, it's in a dim room with his throat on fire.

"Wa--," Kellin tries to communicate, his voice garbled and strange as he rushes to get the words out. "Wat-- Water--"

"Shh, love, sit back a bit," comes a soothing voice, and then there's a straw being pressed against his lips. He's too weak and thirty to insist he can do it himself, so instead he just drinks and falls back into dreamless sleep with someone standing over the bed.

 

\+ + +

 

When Kellin wakes up for the second time, he groans out loud, head throbbing like someone has been smacking it with a frying pan as he attempts to sit up. "What--?"

"Hey, sleeping beauty."

Kellin pauses. "Vic?" he uncertainly asks, straining his eyes to make out the figure sitting beside the bed. "Vic, where--?"

"We're in a motel," Vic quietly answers, "You're safe now."

Kellin blinks in the low light. His head feels foggy. "W-what happened?"

"After Ronnie dumped you, we brought you over to headquarters to let Oli do his magic," Vic replies, leaning over to pass him a glass of water; Kellin accepts it and takes a sip with shaky hands. "That was yesterday - it's nighttime now. You've been, uh, pretty out of it."

"I-Is everyone okay?

Vic lets out a heavy sigh. "Yeah, everyone's okay. A little shaken, but they're alright. Tony took a bullet to the arm and Jesse took one in the thigh, but. It's not like that's anything they haven't dealt with before."

"And did Ronnie-- Is he--?"

"We have trackers on all of our vans," Vic grimly shakes his head. "He didn't end up getting very far."

Kellin gives a tiny nod and places the cup on the beside table before sitting back, a small wince escaping his lips as his fingers wander up the side of his head to examine where his head hit the wall - to his surprise, he finds only stubble and bandages where his hair should be.

Vic chuckles at his confused expression. "Oh, yeah. Oli had to shave your head so he could staple that gash closed," he explains with an apologetic smile. "Sorry about that. He said he could just do a patch of it, but I told him you'd probably just be even angrier if you woke up and saw that."

"Oh," Kellin mumbles, tentatively rubbing a hand over his newly-shorn scalp. It feels rough and foreign under his cold fingertips.

"Um. Oli said you should be good to go in a day or two," Vic hopefully continues. "He said you've got a pretty bad concussion and some bruised ribs, but nothing you can't take a shitload of meds for and make a full recovery from."

Kellin rubs his neck. "Okay."

"I have something to--" Vic starts to say, at the same time Kellin blurts out "Danny said--"

Vic stops himself. "Sorry, you first."

"I, um. Okay. Danny, he said--" Kellin takes a breath as deep as his sore ribs will allow him, "He said that he was going to turn me in to the police so that he could shut you guys down. And he, um." Kellin's voice is small. "He said he was going to if I didn't open the door, so... I-I did. Even thought you told me not to, and I-- I wanted to say sorry. Again. For disobeying you, and dragging everyone into this," he finishes lamely.

"It's fine, Kells." Vic eventually responds with a contemplative expression. He shifts a little in the chair. "I'm mostly just relieved you're in one piece right now," he gently adds. "For a moment there, I thought maybe-- Well. I'm glad you're okay."

The conversation lapses into awkward silence for a moment, and then Vic clears his throat. "I should probably go see how Mike's doing and stuff," he offers, slowly rising to his feet. "I just dropped by to say hi. Oli'll be back in a little bit to check up on you again, so. I'll, um. I'll see you later," he trails off.

"Bye," Kellin faintly replies, lifting his hand in a small wave. He watches Vic leave with thoughts tangled together like a ball of yarn.

 

\+ + +

 

True to Vic's word, Oli knocks on the door about ten or fifteen minutes after Vic leaves.

"You're a complete and utter fucking idiot," he immediately addresses Kellin in lieu of a proper greeting as he sweeps into the room, "But I missed you, and I'm actually pretty fucking glad you're not dead."

Kellin snorts. "Alright, then. Love you, too."

Oli busies himself with fussing over Kellin's head, shining lights in his eyes, forcing him to drink more water and then - humiliatingly enough - helping him dress into sweatpants and a loose t-shirt before hoisting him out of bed to use the bathroom.

(Kellin almost yelps in shock when he first catches sight of his reflection in the mirror - his head looks pale and oddly bulbous without hair, his left cheek covered in minute scrapes from where he hit the gravel and the shadow of a bruise resting firmly over the socket of his left eye.)

After that, it takes about a half-hour until Oli finally seems satisfied that he's not going to suddenly drop dead, and then an additional hour until they're done chatting and he finally has to excuse himself to go check up on Gabe ("Gimme a call if something hurts," he winks as he turns and exits the room).

A little while later, Jaime drops by - "Hey, man," he tentatively greets Kellin, "...has, uh, has Vic been by already?"

"Yeah," Kellin nods, "He was here when I woke up." He offers a tired smile and gestures to the chair beside the bed, but Jaime ignores it in favour of plopping himself down cross-legged at the end of the narrow bed.

"So, you're cool?" he cautiously asks, looking at Kellin with an oddly assessing gaze.

"What?" Kellin wrinkles his nose, "With what? What are you talking about?"

Realization briefly flickers over Jaime's expression. "Oh," he frowns. "He said he was g-- Never mind. It's, um, it's nothing," he shakes his head with a dismissive wave. "Anyways, how're you feeling? Better?"

"Loads," Kellin agrees with narrowed eyes, reluctantly letting him change the topic. "My head and my ribs hurt like a bitch, though. And I look like some fucking escaped convict without hair," he grumpily adds as an afterthought.

Jaime laughs. "That black eye is totally badass, dude!"

"Sure, sure," Kellin rolls his eyes in mock-annoyance. "Hey, where are you guys going to go now that the house is trashed?"

"We're just gonna be hanging out at HQ for a little while," Jaime nonchalantly replies, not meeting his eye. "Keeping an eye on things, getting everything back on track and all that. We're pretty sure it's safe for Vic to be in the city by now, seeing as Harlot are out of the picture."

Kellin hums. "I see."

"'Sides, the 5-0 were crawling all over the place when I drove past to check it out last night," Jaime continues. "Someone must've heard shots and called 'em in. Otherwise, we'd have already gone back and burned it to the ground by now."

"The police found it?" Kellin frowns. "But... you're not worried? Aren't there, like, bodies and evidence and stuff that they could trace back to you?"

"Maybe," Jaime shrugs. "I don't doubt that they know it's gang-related, but it's unlikely they'll actually end up being able to charge anyone with anything. They rarely do. Pierce the Veil usually tends to keep a pretty low profile, anyways - they're way more likely to go snooping around the Family than us."

"I bet Ben isn't going to like that," Kellin observes.

"Smart kid," Jaime chuckles. "And no, he really won't. He owes Vic big time for this one, though, so if he has any idea about what's good for him he'll keep his trap shut."

Kellin shoots him a small grin. Just then, the door cracks open, both of them looking over to see Vic poking his head into the room - "Knock, knock?" he somewhat sheepishly offers.

"Well," Jaime shoots Kellin a raised eyebrow and stands up, "Speak of the devil and he shall appear. I guess I'll leave you two to it, then." With that, he nods to Kellin and shoots Vic a pointed look before quickly walking out as Vic steps in, leaving just him and Kellin alone in the room. The only sound between them comes from the faint clicking of the ceiling fan as it lazily twirls its rickety blades.

"So," Vic eventually sighs, gingerly taking a seat in the chair beside the bed as Kellin fiddles with the hem of the sheets on his lap. "Um. I've been avoiding this all day, but, uh. I have some... news."

Kellin hums and looks up, intrigued; he catches sight of Vic's expression and frowns. "Wait, what is it? What's wrong?"

Vic coughs. "It's, um. You know what, I think it can wait until--"

"No, just tell me now," Kellin adamantly shakes his head. "Vic, you're starting to freak me out. Is it Tony? Is everyone okay?"

"Everyone's fine," Vic is quick to pacify him, "It's not bad news. It's just... I don't think you're going to like it," he trails off.

"Which is definitely a sentence that I find incredibly reassuring," Kellin pointedly retorts. "Whatever it is, just hurry up and tell me, okay? I can take it."

"Okay," Vic exhales. "Okay, fine." He taps his fingers against the armrest of the chair and takes a deep breath. "I've, um. I've made the decision to put you on a bus back to North Dakota," he quietly announces. "You're going home."

 

_..._

_What?_

 

Kellin freezes in place as his mind struggles to catch up, mentally repeating Vic's words over and over. 

"No," he eventually reels in disbelief, his own voice sounding detached and surreal, "Wait, what? No. No, no, _no_ , you can't do that," he shakes his head, voice escalating, "No! You're joking, you wouldn't-- You can't just send me back, you _can't_ \--"

"I can, and I'm going to." Vic bites out. His voice is hard. "You could have died back there, okay? And maybe that didn't affect you, but it fucking scared me to death. I can't let something like that happen again." Defeatedly, he adds, "I need to know that you're going to be safe, and I can't do that when you're involved with us."

"Bullshit," Kellin denies, continuing to shake his head, "Bullshit! Just fucking move me somewhere else, then--"

"This isn't up for debate," Vic firmly cuts him off, "I knew you were going to try to negotiate your way out of it, okay? I knew it. but you can't this time, Kellin. Your ticket's booked for tomorrow morning - Jaime has agreed to to drop you off at the bus stop." Somewhat awkwardly, he starts to stand up from the chair and make his way over to the door.

"So you're just going to leave me here? What am I even supposed to do, then? Just go back to my family and my life and pretend this never happened?!" Kellin resentfully screams after him.

"Exactly," Vic gives a stiff nod, not turning around. "Go back to school. Your friends, your family and all that." He pauses. "The police and the news will be extremely interested in what you've gone through in your time as a hostage, but we're going to send you home before your injuries have healed up, so that it'll be nice and easy for you to to come up with something to tell them."

"I've seen enough of your operation to blow this entire gang up in your face," Kellin says, voice shaking, "and you're saying you just want to _let me go? _You said it yourself - I know too much," he tries, "I could go running to the cops and tell them everything!"__

__Vic just gives him a sad, pitiful smile. "We both know that's an empty threat," he quietly replies, then slips outside, leaving Kellin's world to crumble around him in peace._ _

__

__\+ + +_ _

__

__Oli comes over again maybe half an hour after Vic leaves. He arrives only to find Kellin curled up into a ball on the bed, his shoulders quaking with sobs._ _

__"Fuck, mate, what's wrong?!" Oli worriedly inquires, rushing over to run a hand over Kellin's shoulders. "Can you tell me where it hurts? Kell?"_ _

__Kellin shakes his head. "I'm f-fine," he whimpers, wiping his nose. "I-It's just. Vic's s-sending me home."_ _

"Oh." _Oh, that bloody bastard--_

__"I-I don't know what I did wrong," Kellin helplessly continues, "I th-thought. I don't know w-what I thought, I just. D-don't make me go back h-home, Oli, I don't want to go back there--"_ _

__"Shh, shh," Oli soothes, "It's okay, just try to breathe." He pulls Kellin into a comforting hug - "I'm sure Vic just wants what's best for you," he continues, gently rubbing up and down between his shoulder blades._ _

__"I-I know," Kellin weakly responds against Oli's chest. "I don't w-want to leave, though. I _l-like it_ here."_ _

__Oli sighs. "I know you do, love."_ _

__"A-and maybe if I had just let Vic kill Alex and Jack, then this n-never would have happened," Kellin says, squeezing his eyes shut. "Now T-Tony's hurt and Gabe's hurt and the house is destroyed and it's a-all my f-fault," he miserably bites out._ _

__"It's not your fault," Oli reassures him, "You can't waste time blaming yourself for something you couldn't have known was going to happen, yeah? And as much as I love Vic, I know he can be a right cunt sometimes, too."_ _

__Kellin gives a wet laugh, then heaves a long, drawn out whine. "I-I'm sorry," he hiccups, "G-god, I'm so s-sorry."_ _

__"It's fine, Kells. You didn't do anything wrong."_ _

__The two of them continue like this for another half hour or so, with Oli gently murmuring reassurances as Kellin cries into his shirt until eventually, his sobs die down into tiny, sad little sniffles._ _

__"You alright, love?" Oli finally asks._ _

__Kellin sits up a little, blinking owlishly down at the sheets, then gives a defeated shrug. "I-I don't know," he says after a minute, "I g-guess so."_ _

__"Ah, well," Oli pats his leg, "That was a pretty good cry. I'm going to go out and grab you some food so you can process things, and then we can talk about it when I get back, okay? Oh, and try to drink at least that whole thing before I get back," he directs, pointing to the still-full glass of water perched on the nightstand beside the bed. "Give me some peace of mind, yeah?"_ _

__Kellin gives the slightest indication of a despondent nod and Oli rubs his shoulders once more before rising from the bed._ _

_Poor kid._

__He pulls the motel room door closed behind him and immediately reaches for the pack of cigarettes in his back pocket, but stops and withdraws his hand when he sees the figure watching him from beside the door frame of the room he just emerged from._ _

__"Boss," Oli coldly greets him._ _

__Vic rolls his eyes. "Not you, too."_ _

__"Yes 'me, too'," Oli snaps back with a frown. He starts walking down the stairs, impatiently gesturing for Vic to follow. The night sky hangs cool and pitch-black above them. "You're breaking that poor kid's fucking heart, you know?"_ _

__"What else am I supposed to do?" Vic asks from behind him, "Stand by and let him get killed? Because if so, I'd rather a few tears than him getting his fucking head blown off. For fuck's sakes, Oli, he's not even an adult!" he practically shouts, tone sharp. "Look. He has no idea what's best for him, okay? I'm just--"_ _

"And I suppose you knew exactly what was best for you when you joined up at fucking _fourteen_ , yeah?" Oli icily retorts. 

"He's nothing like I was and you know it," Vic protests. "For the record, I don't want to do this either. I like having him around." He pauses, then continues - " _Liked_ having him around. I've let this whole thing go on for way too fucking long, Oli. Right now I just need to know he's going to be safe." 

Oli reaches the end of the stairs and turns around to face Vic on the parking lot pavement, stepping forward and using his height to its full advantage. "First off, I'm not trying to say it would have been a better idea to keep him around," he growls, lightly jabbing Vic in the centre of his chest for emphasis. "What I _am_ trying to say is that there is a seventeen-year old boy fucking _sobbing_ in that motel room because of you. And I hope that makes you feel like shit tomorrow night when he's gone." 

__Oli steps back and spins on his heel before walking away with quick strides. He can feel Vic's glare hot on the back of his neck, but he keeps going until he's rounded a corner._ _

__

__\+ + +_ _

__

__Oli eventually comes back with Chinese takeout, but Kellin currently has no interest in eating. It feels a little too much like a last supper._ _

__"I never should have opened that door," he mournfully repeats, feeling sick to his stomach. "I never should have talked to Danny, or, or--..." he trails off._ _

__Beside him on the bed, Oli leans over to lightly pat him on the shoulder. "Nothing you can do about it now," he helpfully suggests before poking his chopsticks around in the dregs of his stir-fried noodles. "'Sides, they're all dead now anyways. And if it matters to you, Vic actually seems pretty torn up about all this," he adds after a moment._ _

__"Good," Kellin vehemently growls, "He should be."_ _

__Oli laughs a little, chewing - "We're all going to miss you around here, you know," he finally continues._ _

__"Apparently not enough for me to actually stay," Kellin mutters._ _

__Oli sighs. "Vic's just doing what he thinks is best to keep you out of harm's way," he offers. "And although I don't support his decision and think he's being a stubborn idiot, I also think the fact that he's determined to send you home is proof that he actually gives a shit about you."_ _

__Kellin's shoulders droop a little. "I guess so," he wilts._ _

__"Cheer up, though, yeah? You're going to get to see your family again tomorrow," Oli brightly points out. "I bet they'll be happy to see you."_ _

"I don't really know if I'm going to be happy to see _them_ , though," Kellin absently replies. "We have a, uh, complicated relationship." 

__"Sucks, mate," Oli scrunches up his face in sympathy. "You must be at least a little bit excited to go back to your old life, though? Your house?"_ _

__Kellin gives a miserable shrug. "Not really. I mean, I've pretty much already missed almost an entire semester in school and now I have to go back looking like some kind of weird alien," he says, glumly gesturing to his bald head for emphasis._ _

__Oli visibly winces. "Sorry about that, by the way."_ _

__"'S fine," Kellin shakes his head with a dismissive wave. "I'm just--... I can't believe this is all going to be over, you know? It doesn't feel real - none of it does. I can't believe Vic just walked in and dropped that on me."_ _

__Oli hums, contemplatively chewing and swallows his noodles before replying. "Kind of strange, innit? How fast we get used to things?"_ _

"Tell me about it," Kellin mumbles, "Like. I'm going _home_ tomorrow morning - I can't even wrap my head around that. I think I'm probably still just in shock. I mean, what am I even going to do when I get there, just go walk up to my front door and knock? Say 'hi, parental units, it's your son who's been missing for two months'?" 

__Oli snorts. "Or you could sneak in and walk out the next morning as if you've been there all along," he suggests._ _

"I cannot _believe_ you," Kellin dramatically mock-chastises him. All the same, he can't help the smile twitching in the corner of his mouth. 

__Oli sets his empty Chinese food container on the side table, then stretches out on the bed beside Kellin with his arms behind his head. "This sucks," he sighs. "You're making me all melancholy."_ _

__Kellin narrows his eyes and pokes Oli in the stomach. "Show me some pity, Jesus. I'm trying to mope over here," he says, aiming for joking but instead falling short to wistful._ _

__"We should do something," Oli abruptly announces, propping himself up on his elbows. "Seeing as it's your last night and all, don't you think?"_ _

__"Like what?" Kellin side-eyes him._ _

__"I dunno, just... _something_ ," Oli exasperatedly rolls his eyes. "How about--... Okay: if you were in a gang for one night, what's one thing you'd go out and do?"_ _

__"I don't know," Kellin deadpans, "Stay in bed in a boring motel room and stare at the ceiling, I guess."_ _

__"Wanker," Oli huffs. "I was trying to be serious here, alright? There has to be at least _one thing_ you want to go do. Anything at all."_ _

__"Like... drugs?" Kellin jokes._ _

__Oli shrugs. "If you want, I guess. 'S'not exactly like we have a shortage around here."_ _

"I was _kidding_ ," Kellin replies with emphasis. "And for the record, I'm pretty sure I'm not even supposed to leave this room." 

__"Obviously," Oli smirks. "Except I'm here and I'm allowed to do pretty much whatever I want 'cause Vic loves me, so hurry up and decide what you want to go do."_ _

__Kellin snorts a fondly exasperated laugh, then jokingly strokes his chin in thought. "I want to..." he slowly starts._ _

__

__\+ + +_ _

__

__"And? How d'you like it?"_ _

__"Love it," Kellin replies through gritted teeth, tugging his pants back up over his hips as he slowly swings his legs off the side of the table before standing up. "Stings a bit, though."_ _

__"You'll get used to that," Oli gives a dismissive laugh. He turns to the burly tattoo artist for a high-five - "Wicked, as usual. Thanks loads."_ _

__"No problem," the man gruffly responds in a thick Spanish accent. "You bring him back here for number two, yes?"_ _

__Oli shoots him a thumbs-up. "Definitely," he confirms. "I'll stop by with payment later this week, alright?"_ _

__The artist simply nods and claps Oli on the shoulder before standing up and exiting the little studio area, peeling off his plastic gloves and tossing them in a wastebasket as he goes._ _

__"So, you're happy with it?" Oli asks with a grin._ _

__"Definitely," Kellin can't help but to beam back, "I seriously can't wait until it's fully healed. Thank you so much for bringing me here, honestly."_ _

__Oli waves a hand and jumps down off of the empty table he had been sitting on. "Ah, s'nothing. I'm honoured to have popped your tattoo cherry. And at least this way you'll have something to remember me by, yeah?"_ _

__"I guess so," Kellin faintly echoes. "But... I don't know. I mean-- I don't think I could ever forget you," he truthfully admits, blushing as he sheepishly lowers his gaze to his borrowed shoes. "Or, like, Vic, or Jaime, or-- or any of you guys. I'm always going to remember this."_ _

__He's only mildly surprised when Oli steps forward in order to pull him into a gentle hug. When they separate, Oli's smile doesn't quite meet his eyes - "Maybe this was a pretty bad idea after all," he eventually says. "Maybe you should be trying to forget us."_ _

__Kellin shakes his head. "I don't want to."_ _

__The drive back to the motel is lighthearted; Oli offers to stay the night, but Kellin urges him to go home to Josh instead - "I'll be fine," he insists, "Go sleep with your boyfriend."_ _

__"If you're sure," Oli hesitantly agrees, his hand on the doorknob. "I probably won't see you tomorrow before you go, though."_ _

__Kellin nods. "I guess this is goodbye, then, huh?" he asks with a wry smile._ _

__Oli rolls his eyes and pulls him into another hug. "If you ever come back to Cali, you know you'll have a place to stay," he raises an eyebrow as he steps back._ _

__"Bye," Kellin grins._ _

__Oli gives a shabby salute as he pulls the door open. "Bye," he winks, and then he's gone._ _

__

__\+ + +_ _

__

__The strangest part is not saying goodbye._ _

__It's not like Kellin's ever been extremely fond of goodbyes, but this is on a whole new level - he hasn't so much as caught a glimpse of Vic since their one-sides argument the previous night, let alone talked to him._ _

_Why should they say goodbye?_ he glumly scoffs at himself as he stiffly makes his way across the parking lot to where Jaime is waiting. _What the fuck were you expecting? It's not like they actually wanted me here in the first place, or anything. They're probably all just glad to get me out of the way._

__"Ready?" Jaime solemnly asks him, pulling open the door when he reaches the passenger seat._ _

__Kellin sighs and spares one last glance over his shoulder at the motel. The sunrise is just starting to creep over the roof, giving it a vibrant backlight of pink and orange._ _

__"Yeah, I-I'm ready," he quietly decides. "Let's just go."_ _

__Jaime looks like he wants to hesitate, but stops himself at the last moment and walks around to the driver's side instead. "It's only about a fifteen-minute ride to the bus depot," he cheerfully offers as he climbs in, twisting the keys in the ignition and feeling the van rumble to life._ _

__Kellin doesn't reply._ _

__The car ride passes in almost complete silence until suddenly, they're sitting in the parking lot of the bus station with exactly five minutes to kill - "Look, Kellin," Jaime starts with a heavy exhale, "You have to know I'm sorry about all of this, okay? I'm sorry about kidnapping you, and about involving you and then everything that happened with Harlot. I'm sorry."_ _

__Kellin awkwardly nods. "It's fine, man."_ _

__"I'm not done yet," Jaime shoots him a dim smile. "I, um, I also want you to have this," he says, pulling something from his pocket and extending it to Kellin._ _

__Warily, Kellin reaches out to accept it. "Thanks?"_ _

__"It's a burner phone, dummy," Jaime affectionately rolls his eyes._ _

__Kellin frowns down at it, turning the smooth plastic over in his hand. "Why...?"_ _

__"So you can call me," Jaime explains, "It's got my number in it. For an emergency, or something. Just as a precautionary measure." Kellin nods. "It's only good for one call before you have to throw it away, so you'd better make it count," Jaime warns._ _

__"O-Okay," Kellin agrees. "Yeah, alright."_ _

__Jaime nods a little to himself, his demeanour brightening. "'Kay! Great. Oh, yeah - here's fifty bucks for food or whatever, too," he adds, handing over a crumpled bill. "Now, what d'you say we go get you on that bus?"_ _

__"Okay," Kellin says, self-consciously flipping the hood of the soft, oversized blue sweater Oli leant him up over his bandaged scalp._ _

__The two of them disembark from the van and slowly walk (or, in Kellin's case, limp) across the pavement over to where the massive red bus parked. There are a few people milling about, all with suitcases and duffel bags in hand as they say goodbye to relatives._ _

__Jaime makes a beeline for the moustached man holding a clipboard - "Quinn Thompson?" he asks, pointing at Kellin._ _

__"For North Dakota?" The man checks his clipboard and marks something down. "Yep, you're good to go. That's a hell of a long trip, kid - hope you have something to amuse yourself," he cheerfully announces. "We'll be leaving in about thirty seconds, but you have until then to chat. Got any bags we can check for you?"_ _

__"Oh, uh, no," Kellin belatedly answers him. "Just... me."_ _

__The man gives him a funny look - probably taking in his roughed-up appearance - but politely refrains from saying anything. After a long, awkward moment, Jaime eventually puts an arm on Kellin's shoulder and gently steers him away to a more secluded patch of pavement._ _

__"So I guess this is goodbye, huh?" he finally asks with a tight grin._ _

__"I guess," Kellin echoes._ _

__Jaime nods. "Uh, looking forward to seeing your family?"_ _

__"Can we just stop it with the small talk?" Kellin asks with a blunt sigh. "I mean, I'm not-- I really don't want to go."_ _

__Jaime looks away. "I know, dude," he eventually responds, "I'm sorry about all of this - you know I am. But it just isn't up to me."_ _

__"I get it," Kellin trails off, idly fingering the phone in his back pocket for a moment. "Do you think we'll ever see each other again? Any of us?" he quietly asks after a pause._ _

__"I dunno, man. I just-- I dunno," Jaime exhales heavily. "In a way, I almost kind of hope we don't."_ _

Just then, the moustached bus driver cups his hands to call out " _Boarding!_ " and the various people standing around start shifting over to form a line in front of the bus. 

__"I don't want to go," Kellin wildly repeats. "I can't-- I don't--"_ _

__Jaime's eyes are filled with pity when he replies. "You have to, Kellin. I'm sorry."_ _

__"Please, don't make me," Kellin begs, helplessly clenching his fists inside the sleeves of his sweater. "Jaime, don't make me--"_ _

__"You have to go," Jaime firmly shakes his head, reaching forward to gently take Kellin by the elbow and urge him towards the other passengers. "Just go, okay? Don't make this hard for me. Just go home."_ _

__Kellin's protests seem to fall on deaf ears as he numbly stumbles into position at end of the line, Jaime's grip on his arm like a lifeline as the bus driver finally checks his name and gestures for him to embark._ _

__"I'm sorry," Jaime says as he finally lets go. "Goodbye."_ _

__"Bye," Kellin hollowly replies. He reluctantly turns and climbs up the stairs into the bus with the moustached man right behind him, quickly taking the first seat he sees - outside the window, Jaime is standing a few feet away with his arms crossed._ _

__Kellin raises his arm in a weak wave as the bus rumbles into motion. He keeps his gaze fixed on Jaime until they pull out of the parking lot and he's no longer in sight, his own vision clouded with unshed tears._ _

__He's going home._ _

__

__+_ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> once again, thank you all so much for continuing to read/comment/leave kudos - y'all seriously make my day so much sunnier every time :) *wipes tear*  
> -  
> ((PS: i've already got a rad title picked out for pt2, but i'm open to suggestions for the series title if anyone has any ideas??))


	14. anathema

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A 24-hour diner, a bored waiter, a payphone and a homecoming.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so sorry for the slow update!  
> (i recently got hospitalized (and put on Zyprexa), which has kind of made it a challenge to write...)  
> Anyways.  
> Enjoy! :)

+

"Next stop, Minot Bus Depot."

Kellin heaves a sigh as the conductor's voice crackles its way through the loud speaker.. He hardly feels the need for announcement - by this point, he's the only passenger left on the bus, anyways.

Regardless, he sits up and flips his hood down as the empty bus pulls to a halt beside a darkened brick building beside a gas station. The moustached driver waits for him to slowly descent the stairs and step out onto the cracked pavement before standing up and following. 

"You got any bags, kid?" he asks in a kindly tone.

Kellin shakes his head. "No, just me. Thanks for the ride, by the way."

"No problem," the man replies. "You got someone coming to pick you up? Parents? Grandparents?"

"Nah," Kellin shakes his head a second time, "I'm walking home. Uh. My house is just over there," he unconvincingly adds, pointing over to a vaguely residential-looking street down the road.

"Okay," the conductor doubtfully replies. "Well, you have a good night, then, son."

Kellin flashes him a polite smile as he turns to walk away. "You too." He takes a breath of cold night air and shivers a little, balling his hands into fists inside the pocket of his hoodie and eyeing his surroundings. His ribs feel like a dull, throbbing ache beneath his skin.

 _Fucking Minot_ , Kellin grumpily curses as he trudges down the sidewalk. _Where the fuck even am I?_

He dimly recalls his grade-two class taking a field trip somewhere out here, but he has absolutely no idea how to reach his house - it could be miles in any direction, for all he knows, and he doesn't have a phone or enough money for a cab. _Maybe I should have at least asked the bus driver for directions,_ he regretfully ponders.

Kellin keeps walking down the dark, deserted sidewalk, his shadow occasionally illuminated by the sparse lights of cars passing by; eventually, he finds himself stopping to gaze up at the sign of a 24-hour diner and then wandering in.

The restaurant itself is small and cold. It's dimly lit, with ancient red pleather booths and white linoleum tables. The gold-vested waiter sitting at the counter gives him a weird look when he enters, but strolls over to assign him a table and hand him a menu all the same - "What can I get for you?" he asks in a bored tone, cocking one hip.

"Um. Just coffee, thanks," Kellin mumbles in reply, wincing at the sudden pain behind his eyes. "Do you guys have a phone I can use?"

The dark-haired waiter - Mika, as the black letters on his name tag proudly declare - rolls his slanted eyes. "Over by the bathrooms," he drawls with a haphazard gesture. "Sure you don't want anything else? Eggs? Pancakes?"

"Uh, sure. Whatever. Pancakes sound great," Kellin absently agrees as he stands up, "Thanks. I'll be right back."

He makes his way over to the vandalized pay phone standing in the corner and fumblingly deposits the required fifty cents into the slot. His fingers shake a little as he punches the sticky metal keys in the pattern of the familiar number, and he has to resist the urge to hang up when the dial tone sounds; his breath catches sharply in his throat when a rough voice answers, "H'lo? Who's there?"

"J-Jack?" he finally chokes out, "Hi. Jack, it's me. I mean, um, i-it's Kellin."

"What--" There's an audible intake of breath on the other end of the line. "Holy shit, _Kellin?_ " Jack asks, incredulous, "Where are you? Are you okay? Do I need to call the police? Everyone's been worried fucking sick about you, dude!"

"Y-yeah," Kellin responds, "Um, that's kind of why I called. I'm in, uh, Minot right now? At a diner? And-- and I didn't know who else to call but I can't really explain and--"

"Okay, that's it, I'm coming to get you. I'll call the police on my way--"

Kellin's eyes widen. "W-wait, no! Don't!" he shout-whispers.

"Kells, what--?"

"I can't explain it right now," he rushes to get out. "Just-- come alone, okay? Don't call the cops yet. A-and not my parents, either. Please," he begs. "I'll, um, I'll see you soon, alright? I'm in the only 24-hour diner in town, you can't miss it."

"Kells, I don't--"

Kellin wrenches the receiver away from his ear and slams it back on the hook (probably a little harder than necessary, judging by Mika's disgruntled expression). He punches the bridge of his nose and takes a deep breath to steady his headache, then slowly limps back to his table where his cup of coffee awaits.

 

\+ + +

 

Jack simply stares down at his phone for a second, blinking groggily before shooting out of bed in half a second.

He clumsily pulls on the first shirt and pair of jeans he sees, then slips out of his room and sneaks down the stairs, snags his mom's car keys from the front hall table and rams his feet into his shoes before quietly opening the front door - it's a lovely combination of both cold and dark outside, and he races to get into the car - "Holy shit," he finally whispers to himself in disbelief as he sits in the driver's seat, because _holy shit, Kellin's alive._

The drive to Minot is a blur of racing thoughts, and it seems like only a few minutes later Jack is pulling his mom's car up in front of an old-fashioned diner (the only one in town, true to Kellin's word). His stomach seems to churn as he pushes his way inside the dirty glass doors and peers around, hoping to see long, dark hair but not finding any--

"Can I help you?" a young waiter inquires in monotone.

"My friend," Jack starts, "He, um, called me and told me to come get him? He's about regular height, with long hair? Please, it's really important for me to find him--"

"Jack?"

Jack spins around at the sound of his name. His stomach drops when he takes in the sight of the person standing behind him. "K-Kellin?" he falters, abortively reaching out but withdrawing his arm at the last second. "Oh my god, are you okay? What-- What happened to you? Your parents were terrified, and the police..." he trails off. "What did you do to your hair? And your face, it's all--..."

Kellin winces and averts his gaze, turning his bruised eye away. "I-I, um, can we sit--?"

"Okay," Jack exhales, shaking his head as if to clear it and running a hand through his hair, "Okay. I just-- I need a moment, wow. Holy shit," he repeats. The waiter heaves a dull sigh and shuffles off again. 

"Sorry," Kellin awkwardly offers. He gingerly takes a seat at one of the booths and curls his hands around the mug of coffee, apparently waiting for Jack to do the same - "So, uh," Kellin's shoulders hunch forwards. "Y-yeah, um. So h-how's school?"

"It's... good, I guess." Jack's gaze is unflinching. It feels like a dream, like as if he blinks, Kellin might disappear again.

"Th-that's good," Kellin nods. "Um, so. Some... stuff, uh, has h-happened lately."

"Where _were_ you?" Jack finally demands. "Dude, I was worried sick when you didn't show up! We all thought you were-- we thought you were dead, and now you're just back, and--"

Kellin sighs and massages his temples. "I wish I could have called, okay? But I was... I didn't have access to a phone. I, um," he unsteadily trails off, "I kind of... Well. I got kidnapped."

Jack just stares. "You _what?!_ "

"Just let me explain," Kellin sighs. "So I-I was walking to your house after school that day, right? A-and then I took a wrong turn or something and I ended up in some kind of abandoned house," Kellin extrapolates. Jack pays rapt attention to his hushed tone. "All of a sudden these tattooed biker guys with guns were there - th-they saw me, so they handcuffed me and shoved me in the back of their van a-and then drove a long ways away. Maybe Arizona, I think."

"Holy shit," Jack whispers, almost to himself, "You've got to be kidding. Please tell me you're kidding. Is this a joke or something? Because--"

Kellin gives a slight shake of his head. "I'm not kidding. They took me to s-some dirty apartment building and kept me in a bedroom there - that's where I've been f-for the past two months."

" _What?_ How did you get out?" Jack hisses, "Kellin, we need to get you to the police as soon as possible! You need to, to, tell them what happened, you need to--"

Kellin winces and waves a hand, cutting off his flow of words. "They let me go," he says, "I-I guess they didn't want me anymore, or something."

"Kellin, have you seen yourself?" Jack exclaims, his voice rising, "They beat you up! Aren't you worried they're going to come back for you?"

"Keep it down," Kellin warns, shooting a wary glance around the diner. "Th-they only hurt me once, anyways, when I tried to escape a few days ago. And then they bandaged me up."

"Oh my god," Jack groans, rubbing his forehead. "I can't believe this is actually happening. Fucking hell, Kells."

Just then, Mika reappears - "Your pancakes," he boredly announces, setting cutlery and a plate down on the table with a _clink_. "Want syrup with that?"

Kellin meets Jack's eyes across the table and raises an eyebrow before replying - "Uh, yes," he coughs, "Yes please."

 

\+ + +

 

"I can't decide if you need Kleenex, vodka, a pint of Ben & Jerry's or all of the above."

Vic sighs and rubs his eyes beneath his glasses. "Fuck off, Oli."

"Aw, missing your little peewee that bad already?" Oli teases with a mocking pout.

"I am not," Vic lamely protests.

The tattooed medic crosses his arms, leaning against the motel room door frame - "Ben & Jerry's it is, then," he rolls his eyes. "Mint Chocolate or Rocky Road? Or how about an extra heaping scoop of 'I told you so'?"

"Fuck you."

"Fuck your mum."

Vic groans. "Can you just leave me alone for now? Please?"

"Fine." Oli heaves a dramatic exhale. "Your wish is my command," he responds, sarcastically bowing from the room.

"And shut the fucking door!" Vic calls after him.

The door slams.

Vic heaves a long sigh into the empty room, rubbing his eyes beneath his glasses before returning to the papers on the desk in front of him. The longer he looks, the more foreign and disjointed the numbers appear; eventually, he gives up and just roughly shuffles them back into a stack. He can enlist Jaime to help look over them later.

 _Huh._ Speaking of, the two haven't as much as crossed paths since yesterday morning - when Jaime got back from driving Kellin to the bus station, that is.

 _Stop it_ , he chastises himself, _Stop thinking about Kellin. He was just a a mistake, and now he's gone. Focus. Think about the Brides and the Family._

Vic heaves a long sigh and pulls out his flip phone, selecting Mike's number from the top of his speed dial contacts - "I'm calling a meeting at nine," he says as soon as Mike picks up, foregoing greeting in favour of speaking. "Make sure all of your higher-ups are there. Pass it on to the others."

He doesn't bother waiting for his brother's response before flipping the phone shut and pulling his glasses off, pinching the bridge of his nose.

As much of an asshole Oli is, Rocky Road is starting to sound like a pretty good option right about now.

 

\+ + +

 

By the time they pull up in front of Kellin's driveway, the streetlights are starting to flicker off as the sky slowly fills with early morning light.

"So... What now?" Jack quietly voices into the silence between them.

His eyes are locked on Kellin, who is currently fixated on the front door of his house; for better or for worse, it still looks exactly the same as when he last saw it two long months ago.

"I don't know," Kellin murmurs in reply. "You should get going, though, okay? I don't want to drag you into this." He pops the passenger side door open and clambers out.

Jack shakes his head and starts to speak. "No, I--"

"Jack." Kellin's tone is sharp. "Go back to bed and pretend this never happened, okay? I'll just tell everyone I walked home."

"What?" Jack frowns at him, "Why? Kellin, I didn't--"

"Go," Kellin commands. "Just--... Just go. It'll be easier if I don't have to explain why I called you first. I-I'm sorry I woke you up."

Jack begins to protest, but he's cut off by the car door being slammed. Outside, Kellin lowers his shoulders and crosses his arms into a determined stance that Jack knows only too well - _You go, or I don't,_ it seems to say.

Jack sighs and reluctantly takes the car out of neutral. Right before leaving, he rolls down the passenger window - "I'm glad you're back, man. Good luck."

Kellin watches the tail lights of Jack's mom's car until they turn the corner at the end of his street. He shivers a little and gingerly hugs his sore ribs, then turns to survey the house with a critical eye.

Even in his absence, his home has managed to remained completely unchanged - a fact that he finds both comforting and disconcerting.

Finally, Kellin takes a deep breath and pads up the driveway to the front door, feeling incredibly self-conscious in his borrowed sweatpants and hoodie.

His heart thumps, and his entire hand shakes when he hesitantly lifts his index finger to the bell. He stares at it for a long moment, frozen solid, the finally presses down on the cool plastic to trigger the familiar chime from within the house.

_Home_ , he thinks as he wipes a tear from his cheek, _I'm home._

He didn't know it would hurt this much.

 

+

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow. just... wow.  
> thank you guys so much for reading and being supportive - it means so much that you've all taken this literary journey with me! :)  
> as always, kudos and comments are the best thing since garlic bread!
> 
> **the first few chapters of part two are now up and running!**


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